


In My Stride

by SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFish



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Homophobic Language, M/M, Suicide Attempt, drugs abuse, medical complications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFish/pseuds/SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years, six months and two days. This was how long Sherlock had been here and now it was just a semester, one single semester, and he could get out, tell Mycroft and his bloody parents to fuck right off and leave, leave to a place where he could work out his thoughts in peace...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will leave a note at this and the last chapter. This fanfic was inspired by School For Scandal, by rubberbird, one of my favourite fanfics of all time, I absolutely adore it and I hope my work can be to someone what that fanfic was to me. Thanks for reading it, please do take notice that I chose not to use warnings, but this might contain triggers and they will be found on the tags, if you think I forgot to tag something important let me know and I will fix it. Thank you very much, remember, I do not own anything but these simple ideas. xx

Two years, six months and two days. This was how long Sherlock had been here and now it was just a semester, one single semester, and he could get out, tell Mycroft and his bloody parents to fuck right off and leave, leave to a place where he could work out his thoughts in peace, or even move somewhere different, not sunny though, he hated all of those sunny places, especially because he was so white. He'd gotten burn by the sun once and that was when he was nine. He spent the whole night rolling around and his mom tried different things to cool him off, but none of them worked, it was terrible and to finish the cycle, his skin had fallen off and he felt like a giant lizard.

Sherlock wasn't nine anymore; he didn't like the sun and he didn't want to move to the beach, and even though he said he ought to move somewhere he could never leave London, not at such early age anyhow.

His phone vibrated interrupting the string of irrelevant thoughts.

 

_Sherlock, apologize to him,_

_be the grown up._

_MH_

Received at 5:03 AM

 

Sherlock didn't bother to answer, he was not going to apologize, it wasn't in his nature. 

The facts were these: Christmas had been a week ago. Christmas was hell. While Mycroft gave sassy answers to their mother, Sherlock just sat there, reading sometimes just feeling death get closer because Mycroft could be stupid and wrong about lots, but they agreed, in silent of course, that Christmas was just one of those things that no one should have to go through. Ever. Their father would sit on the chair and mistreat them politely -yes, he was capable of that-, abuse emotionally of all of them, make them feel guilty for things they weren't, somehow the man always became the victim of life itself, even though he had a goddamn kingdom, no matter, poor Mr. Holmes.

Sherlock had no patience for his bullshit, not like Mycroft, who usually took it quietly, Sherlock learnt to defend himself and speak his mind very early in life and he did so against his father and this was what Mycroft was renting about for the last two days on his little brother's text messages box.

The brunette got up and managed to shower, get dressed, brush his teeth and be out the door in twenty minutes, while his roomate wasn't even planning on getting up yet. The roomate would wake up at six, like every other boy and shower in their shared bathroom, get ready and go for breakfast, like everyone, but Sherlock didn't want to see him or be friends with him, so he would wake up earlier -when he slept at all- and move right out of the way. Every day.

The boarding school was Mr. Holmes' idea, he thought that both his boys should be there and succeed ridiculously. Mycroft did, but then his younger son... 

The reports were all about how brilliant he was, just like his older brother, but then he spoke his mind way too much and didn't seem to care at all, even though he did not fail. Ever. Not in one single subject and the teachers suggested a specialist. All of them did.

It was all such nonsense. Sherlock would be seventeen years old in January and those had been seventeen years of dealing with his fathers dull comments and remarks, not after the next six months. 

While the brunette walked down the hallway he saw a boy carrying a box into a room, Tom's room. Tom, the stupid rugby player,but not a bully, just... dull. The boy was short and muscular in a way Sherlock could never be -he'd always been skinny and tall-, he was a bit tanned and had a dark blonde hair, an open smile and no clue about what to do next. New kid.

 

**

 

Breakfast was the same nonsense as always, all of the kids sat with their friends, the ones that were back from Christmas already, or hadn't left, Sherlock wish he could just stay, but his mom would be heart broken and Mycroft would never shut up about it.

The slender boy was sitting alone at the end of a table where usually, in the school time, he'd share with three or four girls that were best friends and sometimes had fights and sat with their boyfriends. Sherlock disliked them all.

At the other end of the concourse, Tom was sitting with the new boy and another boy, talking about the school and his classes, and would they have classes together or not? They could go see the field after breakfast and spend the day practising on their own.

“By the way, don't worry if the guy, sitting alone at your nine o'clock,” Tom tilted his head to indicate Sherlock and thinking he was some kind of smart ass for using clock references, “is sitting there when we are practising, he is a loner and Henry here shares the room with him, but never actually sees him, he just wakes up way earlier and goes to the dorm way after curfew time, we don't even think he sleeps, but anyways, he avoids people, and we have a silent pact to pretend he is not there and I guess he does the same about us.” The new boy nodded.

“What is his name?” he asked and cleared his throat looking at the brunette that was writing something on a school book, too concentrated, no food on his table.

“He is Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. Yes, pretty weird of a name, I know, but we just leave him be. Johnatan, the team captain, picks on him and so does Nate, Craig and Ian, but we don't like that, Henry and I, so we just respect his space.”

“I see... That is good.” The new kid nodded and looked away when Sherlock made eye contact. “Can we go practice? It's been a while.” 

 

**

 

Sherlock sat down with his books and pens and the mess that was his backpack and felt the breeze playing with his curls. It was cold, really cold, but he could see the three boys on the field practising some moves and techniques for fun. The new kid, Tom and Henry were aware of the brunettes presence, but as always, they had a silence pact and apparently the new kid understood and appreciated as much as everyone else.

Hours went by and Sherlock had now corrected all of his forensics book and was three quarters into his chemistry book when he heard one of the boys scream in pain. Not really thinking about it he looked to the field to see that Tom was running off to the school to get help and Henry was rushing into the concourse to find ice, while the new kid sat there grasping his arm. He was sitting in the middle of the field, alone and his face was red. Sherlock didn't know he was walking, sprinting, towards the oy until he was standing in front of him. 

“What happened?” He asked brusquely, what the hell was he doing here?

“I hurt my arm, they left for... Something, I don't know.” 

“No, that is not what I asked, what happened, how did you hurt your arm?” Sherlock asked impatiently.

“I, uh... I slipped and put my hand in front of me to ease the fall, now it hurts like a bitch and my it is all swelling, but it is just a s-”

“You have a sprained wrist. Here, I have some advil, take two, compress ice to deal with the swelling from twenty to thir-”

“Thirty minutes, it will heal on it's own, I just have to rest my wrist for forty eight hours, it was a mild sprain, I will be okay, it is good if I hold my wrist close to my heart and wait for the ice, maybe even a cast would be nice, but not exactly needed, if I just compress it with a bandage I should be okay.” The new kid smiled, “I will take the advil thugh.”

Sherlock looked confused for a second, but then he just rushed to find his advil pills and handed them to the new kid.

“Thanks. I am John Watson, I am new here-” Sherlock interrupted him with a sharp 'I know' under his breath and a nod just before he started to walk away, and that was when John noticed the two boys coming back.

 

**

 

School finally started and it was marvellous, the beginning of the end. Nothing could make Sherlock happier than that.

He got up, got ready and left before Henry -as always-, and stormed out of the room to his first class. No breakfast was needed, only the class, and then it would be over and then the next class, one after the other and soon this whole hell would be over.

His firs class was Forensics 12 with Mr. Lestrade. Lestrade and Sherlock had one of those curious relationships, for the teacher loved Sherlock dearly, wanted him to succeed and was the only one to defend him to the school board when the thumbs incident happened in Sherlock's first year, but they fought a lot, because the student corrected his books, was extremely cocky and the poor teacher had to do something about it, even though he secretly had fun with it, Sherlock knew that.

“Hello, everyone, welcome back. To those who just got here, I am Mr. Lestrade, Greg Lestrade to my colleagues, and will be teaching your Forensics 12 class. Oh, hello there, no, no, it's okay, first day can be complicated to find your way around the school.” Greg smiled to whom ever was standing at the door, Sherlock wasn't interested. “Yes, there is a vague spot right here, beside Sherlock.” _Bloody hell._

John sat down and smiled at Sherlock openly while Greg began to write on the board about what pages of exercises they were supposed to be doing to refresh their knowledge and how the papers should be on his desk by the end of the class.

“Hello.” John said opening his book.

“Hello.” Sherlock didn't look up.

“I never got to thank you properly for helping me, Tom and Henry were, a bit lost... I mean, that day on the field.” John was marking his alternatives really fast.

“Nonsense, it was just advil.” Sherlock said dryly and thought about how weird it was to have someone trying to talk to him that wasn't that Molly girl on the table he sat. _Oh,and today I'll have to deal with those girls again... Might as well go to the library, or I could sneak into the lab and steal those nice petri dishes... Would Henry mind my little experiment in the bathroom as much as the last roomate did?_

“Someone told me you like science, and I was wondering if you could help me catch up on some stuff, we have many classes together...” Sherlock's face lit up. He'd never admit to anyone, ever, that he loved to show off, and that someone asking for help was the best way to show off to someone that would be actually listening. 

“I will do my best to help. I will probably get you into university level before the first month is over, if you are as smart as I think you are, which is not too much, but just enough to do the trick. Oh, don't look like that, you are an idiot, but then, almost everyone is, it is not personal. Now, I need to know, was it your uncle or your aunt who paid for the school? Because I always get the genders wrong and it drives me mental, there is always something, so...?” John stared at him for a second.

“How do you know that?” The blonde, shorter boy asked.

“Well, your clothes are all cheap, your uniform was used before, by a fairly recent student, not quite your size, a bit taller, but you are making it do with his clothes. You are not here for the full year, I see that you didn't bring many school supplies, maybe just enough to get around for six months, so, about the uniform, I guess it was your cousin's because for someone to pay for this school for you, well, they had to be fond of you or trying to get rid of you, but I see you are quite happy to be here, then fond, they made your dream come true, but they weren't your parents because if your parents had that kind of money you'd have better clothes and new uniforms, so I am guessing someone closer like an uncle that made some money, his son was done school around a year ago and he decided to give you these last six months, transfer you here.” Sherlock stopped and John could see his eyes glowing and the excitement he was feeling just for _knowing_.

“This was...” Sherlock waited for the insults, maybe even a punch. It happened a lot. “the most amazing thing I have ever done, can you do that to anyone?” It was John's turn to glow and Sherlock's time to watch.

“I, uh... I don't think that is the correct response.” Sherlock furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Oh, yes, sorry, It was my godfather.” John smiled and looked at Sherlock, waiting for more.

“No, I mean, aren't you offended? Aren't you going to punch me?” The brunette was so confused and startled by the response that this boy had that he didn't even notice how loud his questions were, or Greg hearing it from his desk and covering a smile.

“Bloody right I wanted to punch you, but how could I? I can't shame you for being awesome at something.” John smiled and Sherlock hesitantly smiled back, slowly at first, but then it became an actual smile, and then a giggle, suddenly, they were both giggling. 

 

**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oi, Sherlock!” Lestrade's voice echoed in the concourse and the brunette turned his head to see the teacher at his fastest pace smiling.

Sherlock was sitting at his usual spot at lunch and had the four usual girls at the end of the table, it was all pretty dull, why did John have to sit on the other side with those bloody idiots? They could have been studying physics and Sherlock could have been deducing people, like they did when they studied in the library, but Sherlock didn't have friends and John just needed him for subjects, being polite was the bonus. Sherlock ought to put that in his head.

When lunch was about to end, Sherlock was debating in between going to the lab or to the library, but the lab it was, no cellphone range there so Mycroft couldn't keep texting about how mother would like to see him on his birthday in two days and how he should pick up her calls.

“Oi, Sherlock!” Lestrade's voice echoed in the concourse and the brunette turned his head to see the teacher at his fastest pace smiling. “Good to catch you here! John asked me for an extra sheet of exercises and mentioned you guys would go over the extras together, for the test, but, you see, I am too old, I forgot to hand it to him, so would you, please? I see you have a spare and he is going to the rugby practice so maybe you could see for him to get it now?” _You vile man, how dare you insult my intelligence like that._

“Lestrade, honest to God, you look like a school girl being so excited, wanting me to find _friends_ ,” Sherlock said in disgust, “I will get it to John right now, but do please get a hold of your self and keep in mind that you are not my older brother's soldier, you are just his boyfr-” Lestrade cleared his throat loudly.

“Mr. Lestrade and thank you so much for doing me this favor.” He completed whispering, “Bloody smart ass.” which made Sherlock smirk.

 

**

 

The field was humid and cold when Sherlock crossed it to the changing room, most of the boys were on the outside, they had already changed and were waiting for the teacher to give instructions.

John saw Sherlock first and made a point of waiting for him to make eye contact so he could wave, but Sherlock never did, not until he was fairly close, and then he just rushed with his business.

“Greg sent you this, apparently extras.” All of the boys were looking at them, the bullies, the stupid ones, they were all watching, waiting for John to snap or make fun of 'the freak', but John never did.

“Thank you so much, I could have gone to your dorm to pick it up, you could just text me.” John smiled.

“Greg, I mean, Lestrade made a point of you getting it today, now, and you do not have my number, so, just take it.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and tried not to look around to the boys, even though he felt their eyes burning him.

“I am afraid that will have to go in my backpack, let's go in the changing room and I will show you which one it is.” John smiled again and walked ahead of Sherlock, into the sea of boys that led to the big silver doors. “That one, you can just... well, that works too, whatever, thanks.”

Sherlock nodded and stormed out of the changing room.

John walked out and started talking to Tom and Henry like always, noticing a few looks and cutting his two friends short when they decided to tell him that was a “bad move”.

After the two-hour practice the boys rushed in to shower and get dressed, John did all that quite calmly, and then one of the boys decided to talk to him, it was Craig.

“Hey, Watson, since when are you friends with the freak?” He smiled openly and said it very loud so every single boy would hear.

“I don't know who you are talking about, but I am sure that is not a term you should use, Craig.” John kept on organizing his stuff.

“Well, whatever, Sherlock Bloody Holmes,” Craig said in a degrading way, “You know, we like you, and we know you are new and just doesn't know what is up, but believe me, you want to stay away from that faggot, he will end up fucking you on the lab table, now we wouldn't like to know that you sucked his small, pink dick, that would be just too bad.” Craig laughed.

John was seeing red. “You know, Craig,” he breathed and got closer to the taller boy, but John new how to make himself bigger, “for someone that makes such a strong point of being away from him, you look like you know a lot about his penis.” Craig was red with anger and startled. Nobody spoke to him like that, nobody until John Watson. “But then again, I don't think Sherlock would waste his time with _you_.” John locked his jaw and threw his backpack over his shoulder, storming away from the changing room and almost tripping over his teacher, his coach.

“Sorry, Mrs. Douglas.” He said not making eye contact.

“John,” she stopped him before he could walk away, “whatever it is, don't let those boys intimidate you, come to me if you need.” John nodded and walked away.

 

**

 

“Hi, thank God you got here, I was starting to think you died.” Sherlock said impatiently from behind his book when John joined him on the far table in the library.

John scoffed.

“What? What is it?” Sherlock was looking at him now with a concerned expression.

“Nothing.” John opened his book.

“You rushed out of the changing room, but how I know that can be established after I learn _why_.”

“Just... I just wanted you to...” John tried, but why would he share something like that? To hurt Sherlock? He never meant to hurt Sherlock. “I just wanted to know if I can sit with you at lunch.”

The brunette knew that wasn't the point, and he knew John was hiding something, he would not let himself be fooled.

“Yes.” John smiled at the answer and then they both looked at their books and they both felt it. That something that was beginning, right there, that friendship that would mean so much to them, even though they still had no clue.

 

**

 

John held his plate with such strength that his knuckles went white while he passed his old table with all of those bullies and stupid boys. He still spoke to Henry and Tom, but he wouldn't sit there.

Sherlock was sitting on his usual corner, his curls were even more of a mess, his bluish, grey-ish eyes were focused on something or someone on the opposite direction and his pale skin was even more pale, his nose was pink from the cold and John knew he had been outside.

“Hey.” The blonde boy said sitting across from Sherlock and distracting him from whatever he was looking at.

“You came.” It was just a statement, like he was convincing himself.

“I asked you, so I figured... Look, if you are not okay with this-” John tried, but was cut short when Sherlock scoffed and smirked at him.

“Good luck dealing with them.” Sherlock said meaning the girls that were staring from their end of the table.

“I don't need to deal with th-” the shorter boy tried again, and yet again was cut short, this time by one of the girls.

“Hello,” she smiled and John smiled back, Sherlock rolled his eyes, “I am Mary, this is Molly, Irene and Janine.” John nodded to all of them.

“Hi, I am John.” They giggled, and then the one named Irene smiled openly, but something about her gave John the creeps and he instantly knew that he did not like that girl.

“I am sorry, boys, we ought to be somewhere else, but it was a pleasure to establish some communication,” she blinked and then turning to Sherlock, “see you around, handsome.” _In hell, probably._ Thought Sherlock, even though he didn't believe in such thing.

“Well, that was...” John tried when they left.

“Dull, ignore them. We have work to do.” The brunette smirked again.

“What were you doing outside? I mean, you look like you went outside.” the shorter boy tried.

 _Watching your practice and trying to sneak in the changing room only to almost get caught, because I want to know what the bloody hell they've been doing to you._ “You are lousy at deductions.”

John smiled. “I am not supposed to be the expert anyways.”

 

**

 

_Bored. Come to my dorm._

_Immediately._

_SH_

Received at 3:12 AM

 

“This prick swears to God I have nothing better to do.” John said to himself while trying to find his spot in his Pre-Calc book and go back to the problem.

 

 

_Your concept of immediately_

_is ridiculous._

_SH_

Received at 3:16 AM

 

“For fuck's sake.”

 

_I am studying, leave me alone._

Sent at 3:16 AM

 

_So you are awake. Come now._

_It is important, and sign your texts._

_SH_

Received at 3:17 AM

 

_Fuck you._

_JW_

Sent at 3:18 AM

 

_On my way._

_J fucking W_

Sent at 3:19 AM

 

“What is it? Where is Henry?” John opened the door and he sounded sleepy.

“The team goes out on Fridays and Saturdays and some other days that they manage to sneak out. He won't be back until ten tomorrow.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Oh... I didn't know they went out.” John sat down and Sherlock suddenly felt uneasy about telling that to John, but he couldn't figure out why. So he let it pass.

“Well, now you know, so, you said you were studying, I planned on helping you.” Sherlock smirked and looked at his mess of a table.

“Oh... Well, okay, I have a test on Monday, so, let's get to it.” John smiled and sat on Sherlock's bed while Sherlock sat on the chair beside the bed, dealing with the mess on his table.

 

**

 

“Sherlock?” John called softly, “wake up, let's go have breakfast.”

“What?” Sherlock tilted his head up and his curls were all pressed against his head in one side.

“We fell asleep studying and now I am hungry, come with me. I see you haven't been eating in forever and today I will make sure you do.”

They got out of the room and into the concourse, there weren't many kids in the school on weekends, they were authorized to leave and go home, or go downtown and so they did, but when they got to their table both were surprised to see the girl named Mary sitting there.

“Hello boys, mind if I join you?” John smiled.

“Not at all.” Said the blonde covering up Sherlock's 'yes, we do.'

“So, going downtown today?”She asked playing with a piece of her toast.

“No, I have a test on Monday and so does Sherlock, we have been studying really hard.” John said while sipping his tea.

“Oh, please, the girls are gone and I stayed because I also have a test on Monday, Bio 12, so I figure I could get a couple hours of fun, but not alone... Please? It would be nice and I bet you haven't seen the surroundings yet, have you, John?” _I could hurt you, you little blonde shit._ Sherlock stared at her. What was this? He felt uneasy all of a sudden and that was just odd and not even close to his natural cool ways.

“I guess we could,” John smiled at her and she winked. They were flirting. _UGH_. “care to join, Sherlock?”

“No, thank you.” Sherlock got up and left.

“What came over him?” Mary asked trying to look concerned, she wanted John all by himself anyway.

“I don't know, will check later... I am still up to go though.” The blonde boy opened another huge smile and the girl mirrored him.

 

**

 

The field felt wet and disgusting under Sherlock's face and hands and now his clothes were damp, but he couldn't care less, not when another kick hit his stomach and then he couldn't breathe.

“Faggot.” Craig's voice echoed in his ears and another kick hit his ribs, then his sternum, then his leg, his ribs again and then they were done. Sherlock was left lying there and he could hear the rugby team laughing at a distance.

He didn't get up until quite a while later, John was probably still somewhere downtown with Mary and wouldn't be of any help to text him now, so Sherlock just went to his dorm where he took a shower to be sure of the extension of the bruises, his face was pretty obvious too, but his ribs were the worst. None of that mattered now, it was gone. He laid in bed in silence until dark, ignoring every single time his phone rang with a text, or the times John called.

 

**

 

 

 

_Where are you? Are you okay?_

_J fucking W_

Received at 6:07 PM

 

_You are starting to worry me,_

_was there something wrong at breakfast?_

Received at 6:08 PM

 

_People said they saw you walking_

_towards the field, but I went there_

_and guess where you are not?_

Received at 6:21 PM

 

_That's it, I am coming to your dorm._

_Do not play this game with me, Sherlock._

Received at 6:27 PM

 

**

 

John knocked, but Sherlock didn't answer.

“I know you are in there, Sherlock, open it. I won't leave until I see you.” John waited for about five minutes before he sat down and started going through his backpack.

Sherlock got up slowly and went to the door, sitting beside it to read the small piece of paper that had come under it.

 

Everything okay?

J fucking W

 

He thought about not answering, but then, it was John, how could he ignore John much longer? He wanted John there.

 

Not sure. Can we just talk like this?

SH

 

“I can hear you breathing. What happened?” John sounded concerned.

It had been a while now, since John had come into Sherlock's life and he had been mad to be told about Sherlock's birthday afterwards, he bought a late gift, a nice notebook; he had been beside Sherlock everyday and he wasn't ashamed, he was sitting outside the brunette's dorm and wouldn't move until he was sure his friend was okay. John was loyal, John was warm and good, and before John Sherlock just wanted to leave this school behind, but now, now after school meant after John, and he wasn't sure there was such a thing, not anymore, and even if there was, he didn't want it.

“Can we just talk through the door?” Sherlock asked in such a small voice, so unlike him.

“Of course we can.” Everyone could hear the smile in John's voice and that drove Sherlock's lips upwards.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello there!” Said a soft voice sitting across from him, behind his book that he didn't care to put down.  
>  “I am fairly busy at the moment, anything in which I could be of immediate help for?” The brunette said dryly.  
>  “Yes,” said the voice slowly pushing the book down from Sherlock's face, “will you come to the dance with me?” Janine smiled broadly.

Weeks went by, and it was the end of February. John and Mary were dating, the rugby team didn't include John at all, but they didn't bother him either and Henry and Tom were still nice and friendly, so life was good to John Watson, as he was doing an excellent job when it came to grades, for Mary was very, very smart and helped him study.

Janine had been around Sherlock for a whole week now and that made Irene very mad, or so Mary narrated to John in one of the endless nights where they sat out on the field past curfew and talked or made out. Of course none of Irene's rage was visible, for she was still a perfect ice queen every time she sat down with them, but there was still another girl, the quiet one, Molly, she wasn't really close to Mary, but she liked the girl and she could tell she was also head over heals in love with the mad boy sitting across the table.

Sherlock was sitting on the library, alone, John had to go downtown with Mary and look for a dress shirt and a fancy dress for Mary, they wanted to match for the dance that would be on the next day, the Saturday that Sherlock wish would never come.

“Hello there!” Said a soft voice sitting across from him, behind his book that he didn't care to put down.

“I am fairly busy at the moment, anything in which I could be of immediate help for?” The brunette said dryly.

“Yes,” said the voice slowly pushing the book down from Sherlock's face, “will you come to the dance with me?” Janine smiled broadly.

“I am sorry to inform you that I don't do dances, maybe Phillip would be interested, he sits on the left corner everyday and watches you with a lot of interest.” He said trying to pick his book up again, but the tiny hand with the long nails pinned the book to the table.

“Oh, but it will be fun! Those are your last months, aren't you ready to actually enjoy some of school, Sherl?” The nickname sent shivers down Sherlock's spine.

The thing is, the brunette had always loved to dance, since he was a little boy, his mom had taught him to dance and he was great at it, but his dad would not let him attend to any classes with a proper teacher of any kind of dance, so he never got to practice, really practice and this was his one chance.

“Alright.” He said finally.

“Yes!” She squeaked and the librarian shot her a look, a silence look, “great, okay, so, I'll see you at the dance tomorrow. Wear something nice.” She got up and left, almost ran.

Maybe if John was there he could have helped, or maybe not, maybe he would just laugh and then try to be encouraging afterwards, after laughing his ass off, but anyways, it would have been nice to have John there.

 

**

 

“Open up!” John's voice was clear and Sherlock got up to obey. “Hey! Heard you were invited to the dance! That is awesome!” John was holding back.

“You can laugh, John. Despite my foul manners, I couldn't say no to her.” Lie number one.

“Oh, I see... Well, she is really happy though! Can't believe you are going just for her, that is nice of you.”

“I suppose so.” Lie number two.

“Do you even know how to dance?” John smiled and sat on the bed.

“Yes, I do, I am actually quite great at it. Do you?” John finally laughed.

“Not at all, but tell me, do you like it?” He looked interested, actually interested.

“Yes. My mom taught us at a very early age and the truth is that it is one of the few things that brings me a lot of joy, like my violin, that I am not allowed to play in here.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Maybe one day you can teach me some moves.” John smiled openly in admiration for all of the things his friend could do.

“Yes, maybe someday.” There was a pause, a sudden silence and then the brunette cleared his throat, “are we studying tonight?”

“Oh, sorry mate! I forgot about it and promised to help Mary with Biology, I am really sorry.” Sherlock scoffed.

“Whatever, I was going to tell you that I am busy.” Lie number three. _Why do you have to be so distant? I have been distant, I can be distant, but then you forced me into this and now you are going away, ever so slowly, but that doesn't change the fact that you are going away. Fucking don't._ Sherlock shook his head to clear his mind.

 

**

 

John opened his eyes on Saturday morning and his first thought was  _Sherlock_ . He had been a crappy friend these days and he knew it, but he was going to make it up today, they could have a nice day together and then get the girls and go to the dance. Yes. Perfect.

Holding that thought he got dressed and knocked on Sherlock's room opening the door because he knew Henry wouldn't be there.

“Hey, morning, I grabbed tea for you from the cafeteria.” Sherlock was sitting on his bed with his computer on his lap and when John came in he looked almost as if he had just seen the most improbable, amazing thing. 

“What are you doing here?” the brunette asked with a rough voice from half a night of sleep.

“I am here to hang out with you. The whole day, whatever you want to do and good morning to you too.” John smiled and sat beside Sherlock.

“I have absolutely no wishes for today.” Sherlock closed the laptop and proceeded to sulk sitting on his chair.

“Well, I suppose we could go around town and get some flowers for the girls, then we could come back and I would let you pick a movie, even one of my favourites, I'd let you tear it apart in front of my eyes and point out every single insignificant little mistake.” John offered.

“They are called plot holes and they are insignificant because your mind is mediocre.” the brunette snapped. 

“Yes, that is it, now get changed.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Do I really need to get her flowers? And plus, why isn't Mary doing this with you?” It was the blonde boy's time to roll his eyes.

“Yes. Look, it will be fun, I know I have been crappy to you. I have been hanging out with Mary and haven't been giving you the proper attention you require, you look like a kicked puppy since I started with Mary.” The look Sherlock shot him hurt, but not as much as he had hurt Sherlock without noticing.

“Listen here, John, I don't need your pity. I have more important stuff to do then to deal with you and your mediocre mind and problems like getting flowers. You don't have to spend time with me, I don't _require_ anything from you or anyone. I don't have friends and I don't need you to feel sorry and try to be one now.” Sherlock was talking loud, and once he was done he locked his jaw and looked at the door. 

“Geez, wonder why.” John said and got up, leaving the room quietly.

 

**

 

The thing is, John felt guilty, he worded all of that wrong and for some reason he just needed to fix it, like he needed air, but Sherlock had been a twat, so they might take their little while to get stuff back in place, and tonight was a really important night with Mary, she had been excited for a long time now and he wouldn't ruin it.

He checked everything, his suit was on his bed, looking nice, flowers wrapped and ready to go and his phone in his drawer. No need for a phone tonight. John took a shower and got ready, he picked Mary up and apparently Sherlock had already gotten Janine.

At the dance they met Molly and Irene, Molly was with Tom and everyone could see that this just wasn't her perfect night, by the other hand Irene looked like a million pounds worth in confidence in her red, tight dress beside Johnatan, the team captain. Soon they all got mixed up and John never spotted Sherlock on the dance floor or anywhere else.

Two hours and a half went by and they were having a blast, Mary was a bit drunk from the drinks they had brought in against every single warning from the principal and John was a little pissed because she was slightly annoying, a bit more than slightly and he was a bit done with her. If only Sherlock was here, they could be distracted by how Sherlock knew who the guy had been seeing just by looking at his tie or some shit like that.

Looking around, John spotted Janine, alone, walking in their direction, definitely very mad. 

“Hi, John, when you see your friend, you tell him he is an arsehole.” John furrowed his brows.

“I thought he had picked you up?” The blonde tried.

“Yes, he did, and then an hour and a half ago he excused himself to go to the bathroom, saying he'd be back shortly and never came back. I have been standing alone for an hour and now I am going to dance with Phillip.” John suddenly knew something was wrong.

“Oh, he is an arsehole, he was jealous of John and he just wants attention, he is a freak, let's go dance, Janine!” Mary's voice cut John's thoughts and filled him with rage, “come John, let's have some fun.”

“I am not going anywhere with you, in fact, I am breaking up with you. Your drinking, you are so fucking annoying, this situation, talking about Sherlock and making me stay around some of the people I hate most... I am much better off without you.” He walked away before she could say anything. He was going to find Sherlock and apologize, and he would look under every single bed in this fucking school, but he would find him, because that was the sudden urge that took him. Find Sherlock.

 

**

 

_I need your help._

_Don't know where I am._

Received at 11:34 PM

 

_I think I have a broken rib._

_Can't breathe. Help._

Received at 11:36 PM

 

The phone in John's drawer buzzed and buzzed.

 

**

 

Walking around the dance floor for the fifth time John saw Craig, Nate and Ian coming back from outside, Nate was cleaning his hands on something and Johnatan entered the school, his knuckles were red.

John's heart broke. He flew past the boys, he couldn't stop, even though what he felt was a sort of anger that he had never experienced before, his priorities were sorted.

He ran around the dark field calling Sherlock's name, but the boy was nowhere to be found, and then he saw that the lock to the changing room was broken and his skin felt cold.

“Sherlock?” He called desperately pushing the door open cautiously in case his friend was lying behind it.

“John.” it was more like a growl, like a last effort from someone that is really, really hurt.

“Sherlock, where ar-” he was cut short by the vision.

There were no words to the scene he had in front of him. Sherlock was lying on the ground, his clothes were everywhere, ripped apart and wet, dirty with blood, his body was covered in bruises and blood, he was lying in one of the showers little spaces, curled into a ball, his body was wet and cold when John put his hand on his arm. They had been running cold water on him for God only knows how long. This boy, this man, this was the most precious thing John had ever seen, the most brilliant person and it hit John, like a slap. How had he been living without Sherlock before? Sherlock was this important part of him, this huge part, and to see him like that... He would have preferred to pluck his eyes out with a fork.

“Oh my God, Sherlock, don't move, listen to me, I am here, it's going to be okay. Where is your phone?” Sherlock pointed to the closest dry corner and there was the phone, under a piece of Sherlock's shirt, how he kept it there and no one saw or broke it was beyond John and clearly not one of his priorities now. “Hello, this is John Watson, I am a grade twelve. Yes, I am calling from the changing room, my friend has been beaten up, I can't tell the damage and we need the school doctor right now and an ambulance, but the school doctor has to be here right now.” John spent five seconds nodding holding the phone to his ear and then hung up. “They are on their way, we need to get you out of this shower and get you warm.” John got Sherlock up with a lot of effort and got a few towels from the closet to dry and cover Sherlock, he then gave him his suit and found his pants, but they were soaked.

“What happened?” John didn't want to ask, but the words just came out.

“They got me in the bathroom, I was going to call you...” Sherlock gasped in pain, probably a broken rib. “They dragged me here and ripped my clothes, they beat me and put me under the cold water.” Sherlock finished.

“Who are _they_?” John locked his jaw.

“Johnatan, Nate, Ian and Craig.” Sherlock was starring at his feet.

The doctor and the principal burst in and John told them quickly what happened and who were the responsible boys before both men insisted that he went back to the party, even though he argued, until Sherlock told him to go, and so he did.

 

**

 

Mrs. Douglas, John's coach, met John at the doors and took him to his room against his will. At the door she made sure to tell him they would all be punished.

“Punished?” John repeated, “They have to be expelled! He could have died, we don't even know how serious this is, I think he has a broken rib, don't you understand?” The coach sighed.

“John, they will be punished as we can. All of these kids are the sons of very important men and women in our community, in our country, to be honest. There really is a limit to what we can and can't do to th-” John interrupted her and his voice was low and sharp.

“Just because these kids have their asses full of money doesn't mean they can humiliate and hurt the one person that is worth to give a fuck for in this school. Now, I have no money, my parents are no one and I bet will be expelled for swearing in your presence, but you know what? If I am supposed to deal with this hypocritical shit you are telling me maybe you should not throw fake advertisement out there saying that we will learn something in here, because respect and justice are worth learning, this is just...” John sighed and stared his teacher in the eyes before nodding and entering his room, closing the door behind him. 

 

**

 

Sherlock insisted to stay at the school infirmary and the doctor decided he could be treated there so it wasn't a big struggle.

John was the first one in, he had been waiting since six am, as he could not sleep. Visitation time was at ten.

“Hello.” Sherlock whispered from the bed.

“Hi there,” John smiled cautiously, “I wanted to say I am so sorry, I-” Sherlock waved his hands so John would be quiet.

“I think we don't need to talk about that. How's Mary?” His voice sounded very tired.

“I don't know. We are not together anymore.” John sat at the chair beside the bed and stared at his shoes, “look, I wanted to talk about something else... I, uh...” John looked at Sherlock and to the ground and back at the brunette before cleaning his throat. “Seeing you like this, it made me realize that-”

“Sherlock, oh my.” Mycroft's voice rang and bunt in Sherlock's ears.

“It is nothing, Mycroft.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Nothing? Two broken ribs, a twisted wrist, several injuries all over your body, blood everywhere, several inflicted knife cuts on your legs and arms and you tell me it is nothing?” _For a twenty four year old, Mycroft sounds like a hundred and twenty three_ , thought John. 

“You make it sound like it is my fault.” Sherlock stared.

“Dad seems to think it is.” At this the blonde boy felt that sudden rage.

“I am sorry to interrupt, or, with all honesty, I am glad to stop you right there, how in the bloody hell would this be Sherlock's fault? People grabbed him, hurt him, almost killed him and you are telling me someone thinks this is his fault? This is ridiculous! Sherlock, do not take that in consideration, it is absurd!” Sherlock had a blank face and Mycroft had his brows arched. 

“Who is this, Sherlock? Always so rude, never introduces me to any of his 'friends'.” Mycroft offered John who didn't really calm down at all.

“Thanks, John, this is Mycroft, my older brother and my burden.” Mycroft didn't care to glance at Sherlock.

“So, John, my father knows his son, if you understand me, Sherlock might look like an angel, but he brings it on himself, says our dad.” Mycroft gave John a condescending smile.

“Well, do please pass to him that he is wrong.” John got up, “I will leave you both to it, excuse me.” The door closed behind him.

“You know dad just wants what's best.” Sherlock scoffed.

“If you really want me to get better you might as well leave. I don't think you help in any ways when it comes to me.” And so Sherlock proceeded to sulk, giving his back to Mycroft.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note, I am sorry for any spelling mistakes or weird sentences, my first language is not English and I just wanted to say that any corrections are welcome (:


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how dad would  
> feel about that.  
> MH  
> Received at 1:08 PM
> 
> I don't care, you don't understand.  
> Please, Mycroft. Please.  
> Sent at 1:09 PM

Sherlock's wounds and broken parts were recovering quickly and John would sit there everyday, before class, at lunch and after class until curfew time. He never found the courage to say whatever he was going to say when Mycroft interrupted them, but then, he wasn't even sure of what he was going to say.

“They aren't going to be punished, you know.” Sherlock said from behind his book, crossing yet another line in a page that seemed to be all crossed out.

“Yes they are, that was ridiculous and they will be punished.” John said looking at Sherlock, suddenly looking like he would punish the boys himself.

“No, they won't. My dad called the school, he said he wants those boys to be free from any punishments, he says I need to learn to be a man and deal with whatever I bring on myself.” Sherlock still hadn't looked away from his book.

“What?” John said in a low voice and a confused smile played on his lips. “No, you... What?” He was being much louder now. “What the bloody hell?” Sherlock finally shot him a glance that meant 'calm down', but John was livid.

“Is just who he is, it's okay, he has been like this since I can remember.” Sherlock furrowed his brows, as if memories were flashing in his mind, but then he was caught off guard when John grabbed his hand and as soon as he looked at the blonde boy the hand grab progressed to a hug, a heart felt hug.

“I am so sorry to hear this. You don't deserve any of this.” _You are amazing and I think I am in lov-_ John broke the hug.

Sherlock just sat starring.  _How on Earth did I ever make it without you?_ Sherlock thought to himself and then John was sitting on his chair reading again. John was there. Again. Finally.

 

**

 

Sherlock recovered in the best of speeds, three weeks were the minimum for broken ribs and he did it. God only knows how. The boy hardly had what anyone would call healthy habits.

Lestrade was the first teacher to visit him and the only one that kept coming back, his class was also the first that Sherlock went into.

John was glowing with excitement. He hadn't been going to rugby practices since the incident because Mrs. Douglas said it would be better for him to wait for the rage to calm down, so instead he spent time with Sherlock. Mrs. Dougla's stomach was already showing her pregnancy and John didn't want to upset a pregnant woman, plus, she never told anyone about his behaviour that night on the hallway.

Today was Sherlock's first day back and John would be allowed back to rugby soon.

“So, today, after Lestrade's class, I thought we should probably go to one of our dorms and study, my roommate is never there so...” John suggested and Sherlock shot him a smile.

“I am barely back and you are already trying to use me. Wonderful.” John punched Sherlock's arm and smiled back, until he caught Lestrade's eyes on them, smiling to one side. Damn it. 

 

**

 

John was accepted back to rugby two days after Sherlock went back to his classes, but before he could even talk about killing them all it was his time to be caught off guard by his best friend.

“John?” Sherlock said at lunch, they had been in silence, doing their own thing for the last ten minutes.

“Yes?” John said looking at his book, he had all of his books and school supplies all over the table, now that the girls did not sit with them anymore it was a pretty big table and he could do as he wished.

“Promise me you'll not get into a fight or any idiotic stuff like that.” John looked up immediately at the brunette that was starring in his eyes.

“You know I can't promise you that.” The shorter boy said slowly.

“You can, and you are going to. John, if you get in a fight this whole thing will be called back and I honestly don't think it is a smart move.” Sherlock offered and waited for an answer that didn't come, “Promise me, John.” 

“Alright, okay. I promise.” The blonde said after a short pause, “but what if they say-”

“No. They already are a piece of work how it is, but not worth my time. Or yours.” It was final and as always, John would comply, but he didn't know what was to come.

 

**

 

Everything John did was fast, the shower, gathering his stuff and his pace to leave the changing room, but that didn't help.

“Hey, Watson, tell your boyfriend that next time we'll make sure he dies.” Johnatan said from behind John.

“I heard his dad walked out on him. We can do whatever we want and there will be no punishment. I guess Sherlock is not worth the time, not even his parents time.” Craig laughed, “We might as well go play with him right now.”

Everything happened very fast. John threw the punch that broke Craig's nose and got him on the floor and then his other arm was on Johnatan's neck, pining him to the wall.

“I will tell you what, you do something such as look at Sherlock and I will put you seven feet under. God knows I only need one single reason. You touch him and I will see to your dorms to light on fire while you sleep. You are a little rich wanker who think the world is yours because you are the captain of a rugby team in high school, Johnatan. Your parents threw you here so they wouldn't have to deal with the insecure piece of shit you are. Fuck you. And Craig,” he said turning his head to the boy on the floor covering his nose, “this is for Sherlock.” the kick was fast and got Craig screaming, but it didn't break anything. The rest of the team looked paralysed by John's reaction. They weren't used for people standing up for themselves.

Mrs. Douglas almost bumped into John while he left the changing room.

“What is happening in there?” She asked looking horrified.

“Craig and Johnatan need some help.” John said and walked away. It was raining, but John didn't care, he was burning with rage and something else, something he now identified as need. He needed Sherlock and he needed him now.

As he ran through the school to the dorms where he knew Sherlock would be, he thought about how people were already after him, he was probably going to be in trouble, but it didn't matter, there was the door, room number 221 in the B section of the dorms. There it was and he opened the door as if it was his own dorm. Sherlock was lying still on his back, fingertips touching under his chin, eyes closed.

“Sherlock, I...” he stopped to breathe and that gave Sherlock time to open his eyes and see the mess that was John Watson right now.

“You fought with them.” He said looking terrified.

“Yes, but that doesn't matter, I am here to tell you that I-”

“It is the only thing that matters! John, you are going to be expelled! I asked you. You promised!” Sherlock looked so mad with anger, even driven by it. Something was wrong.

“Why is this so important all of a sudden?” John furrowed his brows and starred into Sherlock's blue eyes, they were standing way too far from each other and John needed to be closer, to tell Sherlock.

“Because my father made sure to keep and eye on you. My father wants you out. Whatever you do is an excuse! If you forget to comb your hair you are out! Don't you understand? You just ruined everything because you couldn't fucking bring yourself to think! Fuck John! Why did you have to be so stupid? You are an idiot.” Sherlock was yelling and John was processing.

“Are you saying your dad wants to get me expelled and you never told me?” John was talking normally, but inside he was feeling cold. This school was all he worked for. 

“That doesn't matter now John. You wouldn't make it to the end of the year anyways, you are too much of an idiot. Whatever, you don't belong here, is not for people like you. I don't know why I cared to try and warn you if you never fucking listen to me.” _If you go, what is it going to be? Who am I supposed to be? I can't understand being without you and you are just... Fuck._

“Oh, so you call that warning? Nice Sherlock. Very nice. I am sorry, I am the one who made the mistake, don't worry, is not like I should be in this school anyway.” John walked past the door and closed it with a quiet click, _this was a mistake, so why can't I regret it?_ John shook his head more to keep the tears in than anything, but he didn't succeed so he decided to hide somewhere, wait for the pain to go away. 

 

**

 

Lestrade found John. Sitting outside his classroom.

“What the bloody... John, come in!” Lestrade opened his door and put the mess of a student in. John sat on his usual spot and it was weird to see him without Sherlock right beside him, they were just a sort of bad balance that was actually the right balance. “What happened to you?” John let out a sob and held his face on his hands, digging his fingertips in his hair routes.

“I fucked up. I bloody well fucked up.” John cried.

“What happened? John, you need to give me more than that.” Lestrade sat on Sherlock's spot.

“I picked a fight, in the changing room, they were saying shit about Sherlock, threatening him and I... I lost my mind and I went to talk to Sherlock, I was going to tell him...it doesn't matter, I just, Sherlock is pissed, he said his dad is going to get me out of school, but I didn't know, and then he said I don't belong here, that I should go anyway, and-” A sob escaped John's lips.

“John, you are making no sense, but hey, listen to me, I am sure you had a reason to do whatever you did and I will defend you.” Lestrade was now looking at his student who sobbed a few more times and started to calm down, “John, oi, this is not what is getting to you. Something there isn't right. I know what you would and wouldn't do to protect Sherlock and the consequences you'd face and how you would face them, especially you. What is it, really, John, what is it?” Lestrade gazed into John's eyes, but all that he got was a boy shaking his head and thanking him in a hurry, getting up and leaving.

 

**

 

_I need your help._

_SH_

Sent at 1:06 PM

 

_Oh dear, must be the apocalypse,_

_or did you run out of thumbs?_

_MH_

Received at 1:07 PM

 

 

 

 

_I fucked up. John needs you._

_Please._

_SH_

Sent at 1:07 PM

 

_You know how dad would_

_feel about that._

_MH_

Received at 1:08 PM

 

_I don't care, you don't understand._

_Please, Mycroft. Please._

Sent at 1:09 PM

 

**

 

John was taken to the principal's office, his case was being analyzed and his parents had been informed over the situation, but unfortunately it was a two day travel and the school advised them to stay at home. He had to wait for two days, not allowed to attend any classes or leave his room for any socialization and he knew they were just organizing their papers to expel him. Better like this, after all, what did he have here now?

“Will John Watson please come to the office? John Watson to the office.” The voice called. It was time.

“Hello, Mr. Watson.” Said the principal and John nodded sitting across from the man. “I have to say it is a shame to have you involved in such a scandal, I was hoping you would be different than those boys, solve problems differently. Especially after what happened with Sherlock.” John shrugged. 

“Although all of this was pretty bad,” continued the man looking at some papers, “I received a call from Mr. Mycroft Holmes, telling me that you are worth it, and I saw your grades. I know you want this John, but you have to prove it to me. I want you to behave and to be done this year on the top of your class. Can you do that for me?” John was too far gone, but somehow he managed to say yes and thank the principal, he even managed to get up and leave the room, but then he knew nothing, he was just walking to his dorm in automatic mode. He was staying, he had a chance to stay.

 

**

 

“Will John Watson please come to the office? John Watson to the office.” The voice called and Sherlock opened his eyes, it was today. He got up and ran off his dorm, trying to get a hold of himself, but then what? He had to make it up to John, he had to.

The fact that the school had a confusing architecture did not bother Sherlock, who knew every corner of the building, but the fact that his human legs wouldn't do their job faster was definitely the most frustrating thing to ever happen. He did not make it in time to the principal's door to see John leaving it, dazed, but he bumped into the blonde boy in the hallway.

“John, so? How did it go?” Sherlock asked looking filled with excitement.

“I will tell you how it went Sherlock, you got your brother involved and of course I am staying now, but let me tell you, I honestly don't understand why you bothered, as I am not making it to graduation anyway. Don't do me favours, Sherlock. Not now, not ever. If there is one thing I learnt here is that I don't need to owe anything to people like you.” John spit the words like venom, but Sherlock couldn't understand, he thought that would fix things, because John wanted to stay in the school...

“Oh, John, don't be an idiot, this is rubbish! I got you to stay, isn't that what you wanted.” John's eyes were wide.

“Incredibly, no, that is not what I cared about most. This wasn't an apology, Sherlock. I don't think you are capable of such.” John pushed past the boy and into his dorm. That was the last time they spoke.

They would go to the same classes, but John now sat across the room, with the girl named Molly, in Lestrade's class and he smiled at her and was nice to her, helping her. Sherlock was going to poison the girl if John kept acting like that. In other classes, he would just sit with strangers, sometimes be quiet, sometimes he would be very friendly, but mostly, his assignments were the most important thing to him.

Sherlock would sit alone in his room for hours, thinking, what is it that John wanted so bad? Why did he not understand the apology? Why? And how was Sherlock supposed to keep going like this? This wasn't fair.

 

**

 

“We can do this and we will do this.” She said sounding determined.

“But at what cost?” The younger one asked.

“At whatever it takes.” 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bell rang and it was time to dress up, they had a formal assembly. Ridiculous. After that the students would be allowed two hours past curfew in the concourse and they would have some music playing, because that brought pleasant memories, of course.

March was coming to an end and Sherlock was starting to feel despair run in his veins, slowly taking over his blood. John wasn't talking to him, nor he was replying his texts and now there were a few months left and the brunette didn't understand why, but he needed them to count, those months, he needed to have that time with John Watson, other wise all of this, all of it was just rubbish, he might as well leave through that quiet area behind the science's hallway and never look back, they wouldn't get him, he had years to plan his escape.

The bell rang and it was time to dress up, they had a formal assembly. Ridiculous. After that the students would be allowed two hours past curfew in the concourse and they would have some music playing, because that brought pleasant memories, of course.

The tall boy showered, dressed up and went into the assembly, one of the first to sit on the back of the room. After fifteen minutes it was quite crowded and he spotted John, at a distance, sitting alone in his old-but-gold-suit, as he called it. He had his hair wet and messy as always and his tie was a bit too much to the left. He looked absolutely stunning.

Sherlock's thoughts were disturbed by the group sitting a few roles ahead of him. Craig and his group hadn't notice Sherlock behind his book and were talking amongst themselves.

“We should get Watson. His dorm is in the A area right? We could wait in the hallway, get him alone, just like we did to the Freak, but they haven't been talking so maybe this one will die.” he laughed and that sound rang in Sherlock's ears like nothing he had ever heard before. They all agreed and laughed imagining how John would look and what he's say when he had to beg them to accept his apologies.

Rage isn't accurate to describe how the tall brunette felt sitting behind those boys, but he had to do something and his mind started working right there which made the assembly go as a flash, when he noticed they were being liberated. Sherlock was beside the door and he rushed to get up and wait on the side of the doors until he could see John and he did, one of the last people to leave was his friend, looking bored and tired and pissed off.

The movement was fast, he grabbed John's sleeve and pulled him out of the crowd, dragging him to the bathroom across the hallway, the one no one used, the forgotten staff bathroom.

“What the hell, Sherlock?” John stormed shaking his arm out of Sherlock's grip.

“I heard the rugby team saying they were going to beat you up like they did to me, they will wait for you, they will be at your dorm section, waiting.” Sherlock said fast, as if humanity's fate depended on John knowing this.

“Well, let them.” John started to make his way to the door, but Sherlock grabbed him, throwing him against the wall. “What the fuck?”

“I am not letting this happen to you, either you want it or not.” There was a pause and a long stare, Sherlock was holding John in place and John was so, so close, thank God for John Watson. “I am sorry for what I said to you. I was lying. There is a ninety seven per cent chance that you will make it to the end of the year with honours, that based on your grades and-”

“Shut up.” The shorter boy warned, “You meant that because I am not a rich boy, but it doesn't matter now, I am out of your bloody way, can you just let me go?” John sounded so hurt and that broke every single thing inside Sherlock. This was his doing.

“No. I understand I hurt you and I never meant to, so I won't let anyone else do it, John.” Sherlock watched while John licked his lips. They heard the music playing at the concourse, it was a waltz.

“So what? We stay in the bathroom?” The blonde boy swallowed nervously.

“Yes, and then, if my assumptions are right, we should leave in ten minutes to my dorm. Henry is going to be out all night, he made a point of letting me know that he would be out tonight so I wouldn't worry. Wonder where he gets the impression that I care about him.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Do not be a prick. He is nice.” John cleared his throat, “You can let me go now, I agreed to stay...”

Sherlock made a move to let John go, but this was just... Nah. He needed an excuse to keep John this close.

“Not until you accept my apologies.” He stared at John's face.

“What are you, four?” John smiled and bit his lower lip, his hair even more messy and his breath warm on Sherlock's face.

Sherlock lowered his head and waited for John to react, it was a mere centimetre now, but John just cocked his head up and let their lips touch and then smash into each other, desperately. John entwined his fingers in Sherlock's hair and the brunette pined John against the wall with his whole body and let his tongue explore the blonde boy's mouth, letting out a sigh of satisfaction when John engaged on the same sort of thing, just a bit more desperately and then they broke the kiss.

“What are you doing?” John asked breathless.

“I have no idea.” Sherlock stopped.

“That hardly explains what you just did.” The blonde boy looked at his feet.

“I don't... John, it is you, it has always been you. John Watson, you keep me right.” Sherlock whispered.

That was enough for John. He grabbed the brunette's face and let himself kiss the life out of his friend. They both tasted like toothpaste and John thought Sherlock tasted rather sweet, it was the best thing he had ever tasted.

“We should go now, your safety depends on it.” Sherlock said moving away from John and peaking out the door to the empty hallway.

“Okay...” The blonde boy tried to say without much success.

 

**

 

Sherlock opened the door in a hurry and closed it behind him.

“I... you can sleep here, tonight.” Sherlock offered sitting on his chair. “I won't sleep anyways, take my bed.”

“Sherlock?” John asked sitting on the bed.

“Yes?” The brunette said looking into his books.

“I accept your apologies.” The shorter boy smiled and waited.

“Good...” John could feel how tense Sherlock was.

“Look, if this is going to be weird, we don't ever need to talk about it, ever, it will never happen again, if that is what you want, but you gotta give me something to work with because I just refuse to work with... whatever this is.” John motioned in Sherlock's general direction.

The answer wasn't the expected, because the poor blonde boy expected words, but instead, he got a tall skinny form with wild curls throwing himself on top of him and taking his focus away with yet another desperate kiss that was broken as fast as it started.

“I don't know how to talk about it, John. I am rubbish at explaining this, but now that this happen, if you take it away from me ever again I will perish, I can't explain how it feels, but I want to know you are mine and I want to know it at all times, but not just that you belong to me, I need you to know that I belong to you and that from now on, wherever you go I will go after you until you tell me you want something different than that. This is what I feel, I can't put it in better words and I don't think I will try to.” They were gazing into each others eyes.

“That is good enough for me.” John smiled and that made Sherlock smile back, “Now, the hell you won't sleep, you haven't been sleeping, I can tell.” John rolled Sherlock to his side, squishing him in between the wall and the blonde boy's own body.

“Are you sure?” Sherlock asked suddenly not moving a muscle, until John grabbed his arm and threw it around his own body.

“Yes, now shut up and sleep.” They didn't turn off the lights or anything, both just drifted off holding each other.

 

**

 

This is how things were now, when there wasn't a roommate John and Sherlock would sleep in the same dorm and talk for hours, fall asleep laughing at some internal joke while hugging each other, they would talk about what to do after school, where would they be going and what they would do, about how John would have to take care of Sherlock's injuries because he was an idiot. They would have breakfast and lunch together and two classes as well. Sometimes Sherlock would use his spare to watch John's practice pretending that he was studying as always. That made John nervous because what if the practice ended and those wankers went after his... his... well, he understood that the same worry got to Sherlock, but when the practice was over the brunette was nowhere to be seen and that helped John.

“Now, you guys have a nice weekend and take care.” Lestrade said letting his students gather their stuff and sitting down.

“So, Sherlock, I have been thinking... I am supposed to go home this weekend as I won't go any other time and my mom invited you, I thought it was a good idea.” John was so nervous he thought he might throw up. Sherlock Holmes, at his house, with his family inside it. Sherlock, that marvellous alien creature that had completely turned his life around.

“I,uh...” The brunette sounded surprised, but in reality this was more of John and he needed to know and read everything about John. Everything. Suddenly he was overly excited, but of course he wouldn't show. “I would love to. Do your parents... Uh... Are they okay with this, us?” The brunette tried to sound cautious.

“Yes. Yes, my parents are very happy and they want to meet you, I am not sure how you feel about that, but I have no secrets with them.” John stated.

“I am more than happy to meet your family, John.” They were the last two students in the classroom and Lestrade tried his best to pretend he wasn't listening.

“One day, I hope to meet all of yours too.” The blonde boy smiled.

“Oh, we might as well start, John,” he said turning to the teacher that pinched his nose. “meet Greg, my brother in law.”

“My God, Sherlock, here I am Mr. Lestrade, please!” Sherlock scoffed.

“Oh, Mr. Lestrade I...” John was blushing so hard it made Sherlock smirk playfully and kiss his cheek quickly so he would blush more. “Sh- I am so sorry, Mr. Lestrade, I...”

“Don't be ridiculous, John, it's Lestrade.” John looked at the ceiling.

“We better go. Bye, Mr. Lestrade.” John started to walk away and Sherlock winked at Greg before following his boyfriend out.

 

**

 

“What in hell is so important that we have to break into the school laboratory at two in the morning?” John sounded frustrated and exhausted, yet he followed Sherlock.

“My experiment needs to be checked tonight, I need to add some substances and you were with me, so you might as well come and enjoy. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Sure, I am enjoying myself so much I'll fucking punch you if you say one more word.” The blonde boy sat on a chair on the corner of the lab.

“Wonderful! Oh, yes, this is... This is somewhat priceless.” Sherlock cried in excitement while John watched his back.

“Something good then?” The brunette didn't bother to answer, but two minutes later he turned around and came straight to John, holding his face in between his hands and kissing him. “Very god for everyone, then.” The shorter boy completed.

They kissed again, but this time they didn't stop. Sherlock sat on John's lap with his legs dangling on the sides of the chair, his fingers messed the blonde boy's hair and his hips pressed against John's making the boy moan quietly, oh, that sound was the best sound, it lit up something inside Sherlock and suddenly he wanted to know and catalogue every single sound John could make.

He did it again and again, feeling John's erection through his trousers, this time he moaned too, and now his hands were under the blonde boy's shirt, caressing his nipples and his mouth was on the boy's neck, his hips never stopping until his moves grew faster and he moaned loudly.

“John, I think I am...” He stopped himself deciding that moving his hips faster was better than talking.

“It's okay, Sherlock, Oh, God, yes, it's okay, that's it.” Sherlock called John's name a few times and then he went limb.

“Let me take care of that.” Sherlock said looking at John's crotch after a few seconds of breathing in and out and making sure it was just adrenaline and not a full on heart attack that was taking over him.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” John stared into his boyfriend's eyes trying to look very serious, but he was burning and he needed release.

The brunette didn't answer, he just unbuttoned John's jeans and pulled his length out, stroking it slowly. He meant to make it last hours, months, if he could, but he knew it wouldn't take long, John had been over stimulated, and as soon as he fastened the pace a bit John cried out, which made Sherlock wish he could keep John sitting here for eternity. He was just too perfect and Sherlock wanted to know how.

They sat there holding each other for a little.

“Well, that was different.” John said, finally breaking the silence. “Are you okay? Because I know sometimes you make things out of impulse and if you feel bad about it... You know, we will never do anything you don't want to.” the blonde played with his boyfriend's dark curls and Sherlock groaned, feeling tired.

“I could do this for weeks and I would never be bored.” He smiled back at the shorter boy and kissed him quickly.

A few minutes later they got up and walked out of the lab, as if they had permission to be there, joking and whispering, each one went to his own room and they both slept wishing they hadn't.

 

**

 

_Wake up._

_SH_

Received at 4:35 AM

 

_Fuck you._

_JW_

Sent at 4:36 AM

 

_Meet me at the field in 5._

_SH_

Received at 4:38 AM

 

“Fucking... Ugh. I love this bastard.” John complained getting up and brushing his teeth, putting his shoes and coat on and walking out of his bedroom.

 

 

**

 

Sherlock was sitting on the edge of the field, he had a blanket under him and another one beside him. Good. Because John was fucking cold and he wanted to snap his boyfriend's neck.

“Good morning, the world better be bloody ending and you called me here to tell me you love me.” John didn't realize what he had said until Sherlock looked at him with those huge blue eyes of his, but the blonde boy decided to play it cool. “What is it?” he ignored his last sentence, as if starting over.

“The world is not ending. It is beginning.” The brunette made a sign for the shorter boy to sit beside him and when he did, he made a point of wrapping them both together on the spare blanket.

“The sun will rise soon.” John, that was resting his face on Sherlock's chest and being warmed by his embrace, cocked his head up.

“No, Sherlock, no it won't. We are in London, it will rise at six, it is the very end of March. Roughly six.” the shorter boy furrowed his brows.

“No, the sun gets up at five, always...” The brunette stopped himself.

“Wow.” John said smiling, “When you said you ignore the solar system because you couldn't change it... Do you really mean that?”

“Irrelevant.” Sherlock spit as if it was venom. John was laughing to the point of hysteria and he couldn't stop. “Look, maybe I should go and leave you be with your clearly poor sense of humour.” Sherlock started to get up.

John held him down and, holding his face in between his hands, kissed him deeply. “No. It's okay, we are staying and watching the sunrise, you drama queen. You got me out of bed. You should know that yes, I find it hilarious that the smartest person I know doesn't know a thing about the universe and that you really make a point of not learning it, and I will laugh, oh boy, will I laugh when this come up every now and then, but I will laugh because it's not everyday that you see the smartest man on Earth get something wrong, so let me have my fun, will you?” John gave Sherlock a peck and the brunette almost cracked a smile.

“I couldn't sleep, it was too loud in my head, too much, so I usually walk around at night, some weeks I walk every night all night, but I didn't want to be alone. You make it quieter for me.” Sherlock caressed John's face with his cold palm, “When I said you didn't belong here, I meant in a pejorative term, in a mean way, because I was desperate to think that you had done something that would take you away. Nobody has ever made it this quiet, ever.” He watched while the blonde boy widened his eyes with attention and grief for what he felt and couldn't share, “But you don't, you don't belong here and this is one of the highest compliments I can give you because you are that much better, you belong with amazing people that do something good for this planet. Maybe you don't even belong with me, for I know I am broken in the darkest ways, but I belong with you, so in a sense, I guess I brought you here today to say what you thought I was going to say.” He breathed in, pouring his emotions like this would never happen again, he hated sentiment, but John needed to know, because if John walked away without knowing that would be the end of Sherlock. “John, it isn't the end of the world, and apparently, it isn't even the beginning of this day, but I love you, if that is of any use.”

“It is all that I need.” John whispered and their lips were locked again.

The sun rose and they watched it, they went in and had breakfast, watched Lestrade's class together and then off they went to their separate classes, making plans of meeting to pack for the weekend at John's house.

 

**

 

When Sherlock heard the shots his heart stopped, dropped and twisted. They came from the left end of the hallway, the end where John had turned after giving him one last look.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He is not picking up.” Lestrade tried to fake confidence, he would have tried for any other student, but Sherlock was also his family and now he was pale and John could see how worried he was, how there was nothing they could do but wait.

The silence in between the shots was the worst part because no one ever knew when the next one would be, if there would be or where.

When John heard the first one he was in Biology and Sherlock was in Advanced Physics. His body was cold and he felt his mouth dry. It all felt as if time had stopped.

The teacher, Mrs. Gillian, ran to the door and put chairs and a large table in front of it, whispering to every student to be quiet and get under their tables while she fetched something to put in front of the door that led to the Laboratory. The Laboratory, where John had been with Sherlock just days before and had been so excited about his experiment. The laboratory, John's only way out to find Sherlock. As soon as Mrs. Gillian turned to grab yet another chair, John sprang across the room and through the Lab door. It was stupid, reckless and there would be no excuse for this when the teacher noticed he was missing, well, if she hadn't seen him running already, he wouldn't have heard, he could only hear his own pulse as he went through the Lab and out in the hallway on the other side of school, he'd have to go around and into Sherlock's classroom. And by God, he was going to.

 

**

 

Sherlock was faster than his paralysed teacher, getting up and coordinating the class to get under their tables and telling the teacher to barricade the doors, keeping him busy looking for a table to lift while Sherlock escaped ever so smoothly into the hallway.

Now, John would be in his classroom in Biology, just turning left at the end of the gigantic hallway, he'd be fine and calm and safe, or so Sherlock tried to convince himself.

Before he could sprint down to the Biology class, he heard steps, calm steps. The brunette hurried into the bathroom a few doors to the right and locked himself in one of the stalls. Phone turned to silent, breathing controlled, on top of the toilet, looking for a window, he knew what he was doing, but there wasn't a window, so he was trapped.

 

_Do not leave your classroom._

_I am coming to get you._

_Answer me so I know you are okay._

Sent at 9:09 AM

 

He typed quickly and then he heard the steps in the hallway and the bathroom door being opened, if anything, he would have preferred to die if John had pulled the trigger, but that was an unconventional thought for others, John would have used the word morbid. The steps grew closer as the shooter checked every stall in the bathroom.

 

**

 

John ran through the hallways, and when he thought he had heard something he would try to hide, put his hand over his mouth, but he hadn't seen anyone yet. Where was his phone? They needed the police.  _In the fucking classroom, great move. Just fucking amazing._ John thought to himself.

He heard a shot at a distance, he needed to get to the right classroom and now he felt the urge to get to it in light speed, but someone gripped his arm and for a second all he could think of was ' _so this is how it ends_ '. 

“John, what the fuck?” Lestrade pulled him into the teachers room where he was alone.

“I was, I need to get to the other side, to Advanced Physics!” John was clearly in panic and another shot was heard.

“John, listen to me, there is more than one shooter, we have to stay inside the classrooms and protect ourselves, the police is already here, you need to get a hold of yourself. Sherlock is smart and he is probably under his table texting you having a fucking heart attack.” The blonde boy started crying.

“But what if it started in his classroom? Lestrade, this people are shooting at something, they are shooting at people, and I have to make sure Sherlock... I...” John sobbed and Lestrade held him in a tight hug.

“John, everybody will be okay.” He tried to calm the boy down with empty promises.

Someone knocked on the door. A police agent, they were taking everyone out the building and Lestrade gripped John's wrist until they were outside.

“Here,” Lestrade offered his phone when they were standing on the field, “call him, he is somewhere here with these people.”

John dialled the number as fast as he could and waited for it to ring. It did. At least twelve times, but no one picked up. 

The blonde boy's knees betrayed him and he sat down, looking up at Greg, in shock.

“What? John, what?”John looked at the phone like it had just told him the date of the apocalypse.

“He is not picking up.” Lestrade tried to fake confidence, he would have tried for any other student, but Sherlock was also his family and now he was pale and John could see how worried he was, how there was nothing they could do but wait.

 

**

 

The injured were taken out of the building, and so were the dead. No one knew who they were, they just knew that there were dead people because of the bags and over heard police talk. Whomever could go home, went, and those who couldn't were sent to their dorms, the school clearly didn't know how to handle the situation, but then again, who should know how to deal with such a horrific thing?

John sat in the room, panicking, in shock and Henry watched him in silence for the first little while.

“John, he is out there, he is okay.” Henry said being confident, “look, I am worried about my friends too, I was dying worrying about you! But panicking is not going to help.” The sweet boy tried.

“Henry, Sherlock is not my friend. I am spending the rest of my life with him. Do you understand? I love him. I am not... I can't sit here and wait for news, I need to find him.” The blonde boy stormed.

“Oh... I see... In this case, let's go. We are finding your boyfriend.” Henry got up and held the door open to John's surprise. “Come on, I am not going to be the one holding you here. I wouldn't want someone to treat me any different. I will look through the concourse and his dorm, you go to whatever class he was in.”

John rushed down the hallways, and the police saw him, but no one could stop him, he was running like this was his last day on Earth and he really needed something, but most of the hallways were empty, most of the hallways weren't crime scenes, and this is why John had his hopes up when he didn't see a yellow tape on the Advanced Physics door, he got into the classroom and saw Sherlock's stuff on the table at the very back, all of his books, but there was no phone to be seen. Sherlock never left his phone. While leaving the room, the blonde boy noticed the yellow tape a few doors down, the bathroom. He breathed in and out, Sherlock was in the classroom, he wouldn't leave, he knew the security norms, he would follow them unless he knew someone else was in danger or if he didn't know what had happened to John. John's phone, that he never took with him.

He looked at the bathroom door once again and ran down the hallway to his Biology classroom, grabbing his bag and finding his phone. 

 

* **1 Text Message***

 

The screen lit up.

 

 

_Do not leave your classroom._

_I am coming to get you._

_Answer me so I know you are okay._

Received at 9:09 AM

 

John stopped breathing. He called Sherlock's cellphone, and when a different voice was heard on the other end he couldn't reply for a second, his hands were shaking so hard he could hardly hold the phone.

“John?” Mycroft's voice filled John's head.

“Wha- Where... Sherlock?” 

“Sherlock is going through surgery. He was shot and was clinically dead for fifty two seconds, we don't know how this will turn out and I am at the hospital right now.”

“Dea-” John covered his eyes with his free hand and sobbed. “Can Lestrade take me there?”

“I hardly think it would be of any us-”

“Please. Mycroft, I beg you.” John sobbed again.

“I will call him, he will pick you up at your dorm if he decides that is best and that he can do it.” Mycroft said sounding tired and even a bit human on the other end of the line.

“Thank you.” John got up and tried to feel his way back into his dorm, Henry was already there, John went into the room and grabbed a bag, packing over night and adding all of his piece of clothing that were too big for him.

“John, what are you doing? Did you find him?” Henry sounded legitimately worried.

“He is at the hospital. He has been shot and- oh my God,” John sobbed breathing in for a second, “he was dead for fifty two seconds, and now they are doing a surgery, no one knows how this will... I... I am going there now, and I will stay with him, I will be there when he wakes up.” The blonde boy finished packing as quickly as he started, putting a new toothbrush and extras for Sherlock.

“Was his classroom one of the classes attacked?” Henry's eyes were wide.

“No, he was hiding in the bathroom, he was out, looking for...” he swallowed, “looking for me.”

The knock on the door was firm and fast, Lestarde opened it and motioned for John to come with him.

 

**

 

The drive to the hospital was nothing if not tense and unpleasant.

“Did you get any news?” asked John.

“No, sorry. I only heard he was in surgery. Look, this isn't your fault, he was out looking for you just as you were for him. You both are the stupidest children I have ever seen, but it is not your fault.” Lestrade offered.

“Thank you.” John said and let the rest of the drive drown in silence.

When they got to the hospital, John found Mycroft sitting in a green chair that looked way too small compared to his tall figure. He looked tired and drained and worried, but as soon as he saw John his face was... professional, that was the right word.

“I have been informed that the surgery should be over soon, he is stable.” Mycroft informed and Lestrade crashed into a chair, followed by John and his backpack.

The two longest fucking hours of John's life, and then a third one, until Mycroft finally used his titles to get himself in the room for ten minutes.

“He looks... fine. We will be able to visit in the morning, meanwhile, we should get you back to school.” He looked at the mess of a boy that once had been John Watson.

“No. I will be there in the morning, maybe after you, but I will be there and I will not leave this place until I see his face and talk to him and until I am sure he is okay.” John sounded like a little kid and Greg felt sorry for him.

“Mye?” Greg called quietly and Mycroft looked at him, “I think he should stay. Really, I know it is imprudent and stupid, but if it was me and you were in there... well, people would have to wrestle me to the ground and drag me screaming, and I would have broken into that fucking room, he is being good about it.” The thing is, Mycroft always listened to Greg, but first he had to argue, just for the sake of personality.

“Is a seventeen year-old boy, I have been with you for years. They are kids, they don't feel the same way, this is useless.” Mycroft looked away.

“Shut up. You know I am right, do not argue with me, Mycroft. I see them everyday, and not letting John be in here, just sitting and waiting, would be a cruelty.”

“Can he at least sleep in the car with you? I can't think looking at him, he just looks... it doesn't help.” Greg let out a quick smile.

“Yes. Come on, John, it's been hours, we'll sleep in the car. I promise not to drive off, look, the keys, you can swallow them for all that I care.” 

 

**

 

Sherlock woke up to see Mycroft sitting in a chair.

“Oh, brother dear!” he looked wrecked, “How are you feeling?” Mye asked while holding a glass of water with a straw for Sherlock to sip. This was weird, the brunette was sure he was dead and in hell. Heaven would have John and crime scenes he could deduce. Yes. This was most definitely hell.

“What happened? Is John okay” Sherlock asked noticing his voice was rough.

“You got shot. You were out of your classroom, although your teacher claims you were there when everyone heard the gun shots. So, I wonder how you were found in the bathroom, shot and almost dead. If it is of any interest, you actually died for fifty two seconds.” It was like he was spitting venom.

“I had to find John. Answer me, is he alright?”

“If you think your life is a game I'll have you know that it isn't, and that I will do whatever I need to so I can keep you from killing yourself! If I have to send John Watson to Brazil be sure I will, Sherlock. You have no idea how far you've gone.” Mycroft got up and opened the door, but before it closed, a small, blonde figure that looked like shit came in.

“Hi,” Sherlock said smiling, “I am glad to see you are okay.”

“Sherlock, I will kill you. You left that classroom, I... Okay, I am hypocritical, I left my classroom too, but you are here because of me and I don't know what I can say to make it better. You could have died, you did, and I can't... I love you, don't do this to me ever again.” John said, still standing in front of the open door. His voice sounded so small it broke Sherlock's heart.

“Come here.” Sherlock called and John obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Sherlock's hand.

“Who did this to you?” Sherlock swallowed and looked away.

“I... It doesn't matter now, I don't remember.”

“Lie to me again and I will bloody well snap your neck. I know who was shooting, I know the two shooters, there were two, but I want to know, who did this to you?” John threatened. 

“Mary. She found me on the bathroom. They... her and Janine were shooting the rugby team, I don't know why, I just know she shot me, there wasn't any small talk, just me standing there and her shooting me.” John lowered his head and breathed in and out, trying to calm down, but then he kissed Sherlock fiercely and smiled on his lips when he heard the heart monitor beep faster.

“I won't let anyone hurt you, ever again.” John promised.

“Rubbish! Just be at the hospital when they call you as my emergency contact.” Sherlock smirked.

**

 

John knew that this time had been luck, he knew Sherlock would be in trouble all of the time, but he also knew he had chosen this boy, and the man he would become, to spend the rest of his life with, nobody could tell him any different.

“John?” Sherlock woke up a few hours later after having medication to sleep.

“Yes?” 

“You should go to school, right?” The brunette sounded drunk.

“Not going anywhere, not right now. You won't even remember this, go back to sleep, you are high.”

“Good, then I won't have to remember that I told you not to go back, you are too smart for them, I won't have to be embarrassed for saying that I don't want to be alone and that I love you and that I actually was so afraid Mycroft wouldn't be here for me... I thought I was going to die without telling you that you are smart, and telling him that he matters... Good that I won't remember...” Sherlock dozed off again and John stood there, letting the words ring in his mind. 

“Good that you won't remember me saying that I will marry you one day, you prick. I love you.” John kissed his forehead and went back to the chair he would call home until Sherlock went somewhere else and he could find another chair, or something less comfortable and call it home again.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John had become more and more aware of how bored Sherlock was, but then the boredom turned into something else, something darker and bothersome.

To recover from a surgery wasn't the easiest thing, John knew that, he wanted to be a doctor and taking care of Sherlock was damn good training because he was the impossible patient.

They put a schedule up so the blonde boy wouldn't miss classes, but he could spend a few hours with Sherlock in the afternoon and bring him his homework as a way to keep him busy. A failure. Obviously.

John had become more and more aware of how bored Sherlock was, but then the boredom turned into something else, something darker and bothersome. Sherlock would spend hours quiet, thinking, and would not let John in, he just kept everyone waiting for him to decide it was time to communicate and sleep and take medicines, but then again, Sherlock was not conventional and, after such a trauma, his boyfriend decided that space was the most important thing.

Clearly they didn't go to John's house, but summer was a promise, a promise that John couldn't sleep thinking about. It would be amazing, he'd be graduated, he'd see his family and start a new life; he would be without Sherlock and had to find a way to become a doctor, he would have to find a way to grow up and fall into the big world, find his place in it. Bit not good.

 

**

 

It was the end of April when Sherlock went back to school, still the best student in all classes for the suffering of the teachers.

The shooters were revealed to be Janine and Mary, they stole the guns from Janine's father and were both taken away never to be seen again.

“So, Sherlock, the day of the... the shooting, well, Henry went to the dorm with me, as my roommate was with his girlfriend and you were... away, but anyway, I was a bit panicked and I told him about... about the nature of our relationship.” He waited. They were lying in John's bed, legs entwined, Sherlock had his arms around John and was humming something when John spoke. “I am sure he won't say anything, but I don't know how open you want to be about this and I am sorry it just came out like this without me being able to actually ask you.” The brunette ran his fingers through his boyfriend's hair.

“Don't be an idiot. I am your boyfriend and I think everybody should know that. You are mine.” Sherlock said uninterested.

“Okay... a bit possessive, are we?” John giggled.

“John?” Sherlock wasn't giggling, so John just waited for the question. “When you dated Mary... are you familiar with the traits of a psychopath or a sociopath like myself?” John nodded letting out a tiny 'yes' because it hurt to talk about it still, even though he could hold Sherlock well and breathing. “Well, would you say she portrays any of those traits? Anything, just... I already have my conclusion, but it would be great to have a backup.” John thought about it.

“No. She was pretty common and obvious, a normal teenager.” He decided after thinking about the short time he spent with her.

“Good. So I am right. Not that I needed you to validate my theory, but it is nice to ask.” John smiled. “Now, I understand that amongst the victims that survived we have Craig, me and Johnatan?”

“Why are we going through this?” Sherlock shot him a look. “Yes, those are all of you, and then we have the dead, Sherlock, we have Marissa, the new girl and Ian from the rugby team. Why are you stressing on this? We are already back to school so soon after the fact, people didn't even have time to grieve, you are alive and everything is strained and weird, why do we need to keep going back there? You do it at least five times a day!” John exploded.

“There is more to it than this, John! So much more! People just can't see it! Look, these girls would not do this. Period. Unless they were being blackmailed or something like that, which is my major guess, blackmail, but by whom and why? This whole thing was plotted by someone else and I can't put my finger on whom. Someone that wanted revenge. Don't you think it is weird that, out of five, three of the victims were from the rugby team? They were all in separate classes, is like they were being picked out of the crowd. This is not how _mass shooting_ happens.” Sherlock's eyes glowed. “Oh! John! It was woman, because she covered her face, but she should be the same size and shape as the other gir-”

“Sherlock, this is a moment of a ridiculous amount of pain for a lot of people. You know that Johnatan is not going to be able to walk again, don't you?” John's face was serious and grave.

“Yes, I know, and I also know that the shooter in Johnatan's class had her face covered, but I met one of the shooters, she had her face out in the open, they knew that they would be caught. Don't you understand, John? They were manipulated and forced, Mary shot me because, she was already fucked, might bloody well shot the freak! I would too if it had been me.” The blonde boy rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration when the last part came.

“You are one twisted fuck, did you know that?” John said still looking at the ceiling. 

“Yes, I am and I figured it out!” Sherlock rolled on top of John and kissed him fiercely, suddenly they were all hands and lips and no space for breathing, Sherlock's shirt came off followed by John's and their trousers. The brunette could hear his pulse in his ears and john had clearly forgotten to ask who it was.

The shorter boy moaned when Sherlock caressed his visible erection, pulling it out of the red boxers and stroking it slowly. 

“Sherlock, what are you- Oh, oh my, Sh-” John gasped and entwined his fingers into Sherlock's curls, Sherlock, the one breathing so close to John's skin, guiding his mouth downwards and taking John in his mouth.

The blonde boy gasped and tried to keep his hips from moving forward. Sherlock took his sweet time and teased until he swallowed John's whole length and the boy came with a loud moan and calling his name.

“Sherlock, this... Oh, God.”John covered his flushed face with both hands, breathing hard.

“Don't.” Sherlock put his boyfriend's hand away carefully and slowly, kissing his face and his lips, smiling against his breath.

John didn't waste time asking questions, he gripped his boyfriend's length and started stroking it fast and hard, letting his thumb slide on the head until Sherlock fell apart on top of him moaning and gasping.

“Oh, John-” He swallowed, “that was...” they both knew there wasn't a need to finish the sentence, so they cleaned up and laid there, together, in a mess of limbs, falling asleep together and waking up every ten minutes, kissing each other, and then Sherlock went to his room, John could see on his face that he was closing up again, focused and that bothered the blonde boy to a very large extent.

 

**

 

Sherlock closed his door behind him to find Henry sitting on his own bed, looking at a book, an English book. Weird.

“Hey, Sherlock!” He said smiling, “This is weird, we are never here at the same time.” Sherlock gave him a quick smile, this was testing his patience, pretending he wasn't waiting for the brunette, “So, I... once we got this time together...”

“Please, do not insult me, why were you _waiting_ in the room for me? I will have you know that if any of those rugby brutes have anything to do with this I'll-”

“No. No, Sherlock, Rugby is done for the year, our captain can't walk and Ian is dead, Craig was in the same state as you were... I... No. I am here to say that John told me, about you guys, and I just wanted to tell you that your secret is safe and whatever I can do to help you guys keep it safe, I'll do it.”

Amazed wasn't the right word, but it wasn't a wrong one, Sherlock felt... Touched.

“Thank you, Henry. And thank you for being with John when the shooting happened.” Sherlock turned and left the room again. 

**

 

Sherlock felt much more confident about his theory, but who was the person manipulating them? Because there was one and he knew it.

While he thought about it he tried to organize his experiment.

“Here you are! I have been looking for you since... Since that horrendous day. Heard you got shot... I'd love to see your scar.” Irene's voice echoed in the empty laboratory. “I also know for a fact that you have been snooping, checking with some other students about their version. Is it true?” She smiled maliciously when he turned to look at her in her destroyed uniform, designed by her to show more skin then a dermatologist wanted to see.

“You don't know a thing about what I am doing, but I am glad you came. I wondered if my text would actually bring you here.” Sherlock said and tried to turn to his experiment.

“There is where you are wrong. I know everything. I am here to tell you that you better stop looking for trouble.”

“Tell me, what did you use to blackmail them? Janine's dad drug selling scheme and Mary's mom affairs? What?” Sherlock stared at her.

“I am impressed, tell me, is any other girl impressed by you all of the time, or rather, is there someone you like to impress?” She got closer and smiled openly, her dark hair falling in waves around her face.

“The game is over, Irene. I know it was you, I just want to know why.” Irene licked her lips and cupped Sherlock's face with her hand.

“Oh, honey, the game has just begun, and the best part is that now you are playing. You won't be able to prove it. Ever. Their parents will never admit they slept with a school girl and that she learnt their secrets and bent their families until they broke.” Sherlock moved away from her touch. “I am not a school girl, this is rather a holiday, or better, a job that is quite easy... Do you really want to take part in this?” She bit her lower lip, eyes fixed on Sherlock's lips.

“I will prove it.” She smiled and giggled.

“Not if I destroy you first.” She winked and turned, leaving the room.

 

**

 

John sat across from Sherlock at lunch with his tray, smiling away.

“I have great news!” He announced.

“Get up and leave this table right now.” Sherlock said under his breath.

“What?” John furrowed his brows. “I always sit here, something wrong?”

“For fuck sakes John, walk away. Back off.” Sherlock said one last time, starting to get up, but then John did, his face blank, his eyes wide. He took his tray and turned on the left hallway. Sherlock didn't make any attempts of anything, he just sat there, playing with his books as always.

Meanwhile, John walked into the staff bathroom, the forgotten one where he has kissed Sherlock for the first time and sat on the floor, his tray on his lap. After two bites into his apple he threw the tray away and sat on the ground, waiting for the bell to go for next class, and then he cried, not sobbing, not making any noise, he just cried, letting the tears roll down his face.

 

**

 

On Greg's class, John sat at the back, alone and Sherlock sat at their usual spot. Greg noticed and after class Sherlock flew out, so John was left with Mr. Lestrade, alone.

“John, what is happening?” Lestrade asked not even trying to pretend he didn't notice.

“I don't know. I am not allowed near him anymore since...” He pretended to check his clock. “Lunch.” The student bit his lip to hold back the tears.

“I am so sorry, something must have happened, you know it is Sherlock after all, his brother is the same shit.” Lestrade smiled, “It will be okay.”

John murmured thanks and left the room.

 

_Now, you get your fucking_

_brother to tell John what is_

_happening or I will fail him._

_Swear to God, Mye._

Sent at 1:18 PM

 

_He can't and you know that._

_This is the right thing to do, love._

_We are dealing with a murderer._

_And sign your texts._

_MH_

Received at 1:18 PM

 

_Do not tell me what is right._

_Fix this shit before I do it, John_

_went through hell for Sherlock._

_And fuck you Mycroft, I am not_

_signing them._

Sent at 1:19 PM

 

**

 

Sherlock gasped when he found it. The bag with bullets and the gun. Because of course she couldn't have Janine stealing three guns for two girls, but she had to shoot Johnatan, not to kill, it was a warning them, probably to his parents, she most definitely worked for an investigation. 

Now, Sherlock knew she had a gun because someone like this would not be unarmed and even if she decided to be, there hadn't been enough time for her to throw it away, once she only left the school every two months, the gun could not have been disposed of at the school, so there we go, it had to be here and Sherlock had found it.

 

_Found it._

_SH_

Sent at 3:00 PM

 

_Bring it to the school gate._

_MH_

Received at 3:00 PM

 

Before Sherlock could reply or get moving someone was at the door and he was under the bed.

“Yes, I got it. His parents are well aware.” Irene's voice echoed through the room and Sherlock found his recording app, now proof would be something he had enough of. “Well, don't you think the will chair is a big enough note, honey? Listen to me, I wasn't going to kill a teenager just like that. Yes, but I wasn't shooting at the others. Do not talk to me like I am one of them, you know quite well who I am and what I am made of, do not undermine me.” Sherlock could hear the buzz of another voice on the phone with her when she laid on the bed. “Okay, yes, and see that Mycroft Holmes doesn't get to you Charles, I mean it, his little brother is a pain in the ass, but I'll figure out how to get him off, I did it last time when I got Johnatan to bit the shit out of him so I could get all of that info we needed. Okay, yes, I'll be sure to. Bye.” She got up and Sherlock saw a shirt falling to the ground. “I'll be right out girls!” She yelled in a sickening voice. “Bitches.” Irene whispered to herself before walking to the door and leaving with a group of girls.

Sherlock finally started breathing and crawled from under the bed, getting up and leaving the room too.

 

**

 

“Sherlock, this is more than proof. I will get her out.” Mycroft said from inside the car.

“Why did you need all of this so fast? I mean, I only texted you yesterday.” Sherlock questioned.

“Greg said that if I didn't have this done and over with by today he would fail you and break up with me. Apparently John isn't having a fun time when it comes to his time off from you.” Sherlock scoffed and walked away from the car, he had been avoiding thinking of John. He had been doing so well, until now.

While he marched into the school he thought of what to say, but then he was done with this, and now that no one could hurt him or his boyfriend – he was sure that Mycroft's team would have Irene right now –, he would say the truth and John would see him as a hero and that would be more than enough. What he didn't know was that it wasn't.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can't believe you.” And every single night she says this has got to stop, and I say alright.

John heard the knocks on the door and thanked God Henry had made it. They could go out and do something.

“I heard you had good news.” Said Sherlock just standing there and biting his lip. _Fuck you for biting your lip like that._ Thought John.

“Heard you needed space.” John said letting him in.

“Look, I... remember when I said I knew something was amiss, and that I had figured it out? I did! I was right, it had been Irene, you are not even going to see her at school tomorrow, she is actually the most despising human I have ever seen, brilliant, but the biggest bit-”

“You see, I find it amazing that you figured it out, but I am not having this anymore, Sherlock. Look, I find it that if I accept something that is less than what I think I deserve once, then I am accepting to have that whenever. I deserved to know what you were in and I thought we were a team, but clearly, you work alone. So...” Sherlock blinked.

“No, John, listen, Mycroft said it would be best, she could have done something to you, oh come on, even you are capable of getting _that_.” Sherlock said mocking.

“Oh, but I do, I understand quite well. I am not going through this again, so maybe you should take your time and figure out if you really want me in. If you do then you better share stuff with me because I am not accepting this. Your answer now will mean nothing to me, so please go and think on it.” John pointed at the door. “I am waiting for someone so...” Sherlock nodded and walked out of the room. 

John laid in bed and texted Henry.

 

_Maybe we could just stay in?_

_I don't feel like sneaking out._

_JW_

Sent at 3:47 PM

 

_Sure, I am almost there._

_What do you sign your texts for?_

Received at 3:50 PM

 

_Habit, I guess_

_JW_

Sent at 3:51 PM

 

**

 

Two days later John took his tray into the bathroom again, he kinda liked the forgotten bathroom in a way that he wasn't sure that was healthy. He had his books with him too so he could study for an important test that he honestly hadn't been preparing enough for since Sherlock walked out that door and never showed up again.

As he crossed the door, opening it with his back as his hands were busy, he stopped mid-way. 

Sherlock was standing there in his tux and the song “In My Stride” by Oh Mercy started playing, on his phone, the bathroom was dark, except for a light coming from Sherlock's phone and the one little window that hadn't been open in a very, very long time. The song was one of John's favourites.  _ When I'm 21 she'll be 35... _

“What are you doing?” John asked while Sherlock took his tray and placed it on the floor along with his books.

“I said I was going to teach you some moves one day, because I love to dance and I never had the chance that night, so I am doing what I always do, being selfish.” Sherlock said offering a hand that John took without any hesitation, and then they were sliding slowly together.

“I can't believe you.” _And every single night she says this has got to stop, and I say alright._

“Shh.” Sherlock whispered, letting John rest his face against his chest.

 

_Oh my, my, there's a feeling inside and the door's open wide, I'm gonna take you in my stride. Oh my, my there's some dishes to dry and the towels are soaked wet, and I'm not finished with you yet._

 

Sherlock whispered along with the song. He knew it by heart because John was always humming it, singing it quietly to himself.

“I'll watch you grow old.” he sand along, “There's a feeling inside...” He looked at John in the eyes and kept on singing, “I am gonna take you in my stride.” John smiled and his eyes were teary, so Sherlock kissed them carefully, “Oh, my, my, there's some dishes to dry, but the towels are soaked wet,” he gave John a fast peck on the lips and said with the song instead of singing it, “and I am not finished with you yet...” Letting the song end while he held John in his arms.

“You are an idiot.” John giggled looking at the ceiling to hold his tears.

“I am sorry. I love you.” Sherlock buried his face on John's shoulder and breathed his sent in. “I'll never, ever do this again. Unless it is for your well being, of course.” John smiled and kissed Sherlock's neck softly.

“I love you too.” They held each other for a long time, but none of them really noticed, until the bell went and they were about to leave the bathroom and go into Lestrade's class when Sherlock stopped John.

“No, everyone should know you are mine.” John arched his eyebrows.

“Oh, am I now?” While Sherlock grabbed his hand before opening the door.

“Do you want to be?” Sherlock's eyes were open and so blue...

“Yes.” John smiled at his mad boyfriend and kissed him.

They left the bathroom holding hands, out into the hallway and when some of the rugby boys saw them, John nodded to them and when they got into their Forensics class Greg smiled openly and when heads turned to them Sherlock squeezed John's hand, and the shorter boy understood his boyfriend had been wrong all along when he said that maybe John didn't belong with him, because honestly, he never felt like this before, and if he didn't belong to this then he just didn't belong at all.

 

**

 

“Three months... that is all we have left, wow.” John commented packing his backpack. They were finally going to his parents house.

“Why are you so nervous? You keep making remarks, quite useless remarks if you allow me.” Sherlock commented while packing his toiletries. 

“I don't know, I really have no idea, is just...” The blonde boy stopped packing for a bit and breathed in and out, letting himself be nervous. “I know they will love you, you are brilliant, I mean who wouldn't?” Sherlock smirked.

“I could give you a list...”

“Of people that don't matter. Anyways, I know how they will feel about you, but they are... They are normal people, like me, and I just don't want you to hate it.” John confessed sitting beside his bag and looking at the ceiling. 

“Listen to me, you idiot, your parents made you. They gave you to me, if anything I will crawl to their feet and thank them for months without such as a smirk.” Sherlock was sitting on the floor in front of John who was not playing with his boyfriend's curls. “I understand what you are trying to say and I promise you I will love it.” The brunette rested his face on John's thigh.

“There is another thing... my mom,uh... my mom likes to think she is on the loop...” Sherlock raised an eyebrow and cocked his head up. “She has decided...” John breathed in. “she has decided that we are sleeping in the same room and that she wants to be the most open person on this Earth, so I wanted you to know that I am not pressuring you into anything, this is just who she is, it is her way of giving us space to be... together, however we wish.” The blonde boy was as red as a tomato.

“Uh, I see, we are renting about sex.” Sherlock stopped for a bit, as cool as one could be and then continued. “We never spoke about it, things just happened, but maybe we should have. Before meeting your mom at least.” They both smiled.

“Have you ever had sex with anyone at all?” John tried, if they were doing this then that was the right question, wasn't it?

“I had sex with Sebastian, in my first year and then I got him expelled, but yes, I did.” The brunette was still as cool as it could be.

“I only had sex with girls, I mean, I never had the kind of sex this relationship would... provide.” The shorter boy offered.

“I know. I don't feel pressured by you. I want you. A lot.” They both could feel that this situation was taking a turn and they both enjoyed it.

“Me too. I want you too.” John waited and then Sherlock was kissing him, pushing him down to lay on the bed, undoing his belt and the buttons on his shirt while the boy under him tried to breathe.

John moved quickly undoing Sherlock's belt and undoing the buttons on his shirt,  _ fucking uniforms _ , they both thought. Now they were in boxers and John rolled Sherlock to his back, kissing him and slowly sliding his boxers down, the brunette gasped. The blonde boy slowly took Sherlock in his mouth and teased him as much as he could.  _ Payback _ . 

While the brunette moaned John teased with his tongue and then he put one finger in, which fast enough gave space for two and three.

“John, now!” Sherlock moaned and rolled his hips.

At this moment they heard someone at the door and John jumped away in shock. Sherlock was faster and got his clothes running into the bathroom and closing the door with a loud bang.

John followed the lead and put his jeans on trying to hide his erection as best as he could by getting himself under the covers.

The person at the door was talking to someone else and taking his time to come in. Thank God.

“Hey, John!” The door finally opened, John's roommate the one that was never there. “I thought you were packing to go home with your boyfriend...?” 

“We are.” John looked at the backpacks on the bed. “He just went to the bathroom and... and I am waiting, we are almost done.” The blonde boy shot a quick, embarrassed smile to the other boy.

“Oh... I see... hey mate, I know we are not friends, but, uh... you are welcome to tell me whenever you guys want some time alone, deal?” if flesh could be on fire just because one wanted it to be this is what would happen to John's body right now.

“Oh, no...” a fake laugh echoed in the room and Sherlock smiled alone in the bathroom. “Thank you, but no need for time alone for packing.” John smiled and then the bathroom door was open, as if he had never been undressed in his life, Sherlock walked in the room and acknowledged the third boy, but John just wanted to kill his boyfriend, because while he was in bed, no shirt on and messy jeans trying to forget about his honestly hurtful erection, the brunette looked like a movie star. 

“Are we done packing?” Sherlock smiled and held back a laugh, but in reality, even though he had just dealt with his erection in the bathroom, he could feel his body warming up again, seeing John like this, messy hair, no shirt, all flushed and hiding his erection that Sherlock knew was there, this could be fun.

“Yes, I guess...” The blonde said moving under the covers, finding the best way to hide what Sherlock knew was there. The brunette, having his back to John's roommate, made sure to let John see him looking at the exact spot John was trying to hide and licking his lower lip, the shorter boy had his mouth open in shock, eyes wide, and then his boyfriend bit his lower lip, slowly, making it that much harder to deal with anything, but then, suddenly, Sherlock turned to make conversation with the poor roommate that didn't realize a thing, giving John the time to run into the bathroom.

It was a nice, sunny Friday afternoon and Mycroft would soon be here to drive them to the station. It was foolish of the boys to think no one would walk in, but in a certain way John was glad someone had, it felt a bit rushed, like they needed to talk more about it. They didn't even know if they had condoms for God's sake!

John took Sherlock's hand while they walked towards the gates and sighed.

“You are considering telling them. Do tell them, John.” Sherlock said gripping the blonde boy's hand.

“They don't need to worry. They just need to know I have a beautiful, brilliant, infuriating boyfriend that makes me happy and that is what they know, why ruin it for them?” The brunette scoffed.

“Because they wrote on your locker door, because they put notes on your door.” The taller boy sounded outraged.

“But they did it to you too...” John murmured looking at his feet when they finally stopped, “and you are not telling anyone.”

“Because I have arseholes for parents, John, but you don't. Let them in, don't keep things from them, you never did.” his dark brows were furrowed, looking at John who stood on his tip toes and smoothed them with his fingers and kisses.

“Alright. By the way, later, we have something else we need to discuss.”

“I know... we will.” Sherlock kissed John's cheek.

 

**

 

The ride with Mycroft was, according to Sherlock, insipid, but according to John, pleasant, but the train ride was just long for both of them, who spoke about everything but the incident that took place in John's room.

“John!” A tall, blonde woman with beautiful blue eyes that clearly was John's mom screamed as loud as she could while trying to run amongst the people that surrounded them.

“Mom!” John was taken in a tight hug that meant everything to him, but he promised himself he wouldn't cry, his mom was given to exaggerations and would take that as a sign that he hated the school. “Oh, I missed you.” He said chocking on his tears, and Sherlock could tell, they both knew Sherlock could tell.

“Oh, Sherlock!” The hug came as quickly as a bullet and for a second Sherlock was paralysed, but then his arms tried to mirror hers. “It is so great to meet you, I heard so much about you and how brilliant you are and eccentric! I always thought John's love interest would be eccentric!” She said holding the brunette by his shoulders.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Watson.” Sherlock smiled at her, he had to look down to make eye contact. John was a bit taller than his mom, so his boyfriend looked like an elf close to a hobbit when he stood close to the woman.

“Oh, Margaret, please! Now, you boys tell me everything about that evil bitch on the way home! Your father will be home at seven, long day at work.” John was blushing so much that Sherlock had to hold back a laugh and while they walked behind her, following the little woman through the crowd, he whispered into the blonde boy's ear. 

“She is amazing.” John smiled and squeezed Sherlock's hand quickly. “I am ought to thank her so much... a weekend will never be enough.”

“What about a life time, would that be enough?” Something about the way John put those words made it clear that he was actually asking something, he was asking Sherlock to stay. Even though they only had three months together, even though everything, he was asking if Sherlock was capable of compromising, give all he could to find a way to be with John. John was ready to do it.

“A life time hardly starts to cover it, but it is a beginning.” The smile on the shorter boy's face spread and contaminated Sherlock. They were going to try, it didn't matter that they were seventeen, it mattered that they wanted this, they wanted to be together and if it didn't work they would find another way, but right now was their time and they would not waste this chance. 

 

**

 

John's house was small. John's living room was tiny and organized, John's kitchen was almost all taken by a table, the bathroom was like a dolls bathroom and Sherlock clearly had some trouble moving in there, but John's bedroom... His bedroom was small and it had posters all over, from his favourite movies, it had the lyrics of “In My Stride” written in different, secret places so his mom wouldn't kill him for carving into the furniture. It was the best place Sherlock had ever been in.

“So, my bed is small, but we can get a mattress somewhere around the house, Harry's room perhaps. She is not here anyways.” John said looking around.

“We can fit.” Sherlock said decisively.

“So, what happened this afternoon...” John started and his boyfriend waited, trying to hide his own insecurities on the subject. “I think we were a bit too fast. Let's clarify things. I want to, Sherlock, I really do. I want it so bad, you don't even know and I am ready, I mean, I wish all of my first times at everything could have been with you, from learning how to ride my bike to this, but I need to know if you feel the same and we need to make sure we are safe because I have been with other people and so have you.” It was more like vomiting information, but he was glad that at least he got it out.

“I understand and agree. We should make sure to be safe. I am ready too.” Sherlock sat on the bed and waited for John to sit beside him, and when he did they kissed, sweetly.

“Dad will be home in a bit, we ought to go downstairs, talk about _the evil bitch_ with my mom.” John smiled.

“I have to admit your mom described Irene so perfectly I should write it down.” They both giggled and got up. It was going to be a great weekend and they knew it, but they didn't know what laid ahead. 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's mom was the most amusing person Sherlock had ever met. She had no taboos and certainly was loud and exaggerated, she was a small lady with a powerful personality and a bright, huge smile, like John's...

John's mom was the most amusing person Sherlock had ever met. She had no taboos and certainly was loud and exaggerated, she was a small lady with a powerful personality and a bright, huge smile, like John's, when it came to Mr. Watson, he was a tall, charming brunette with a big smile as well, a very smart man and completely in love with his wife, he watched her every move with such adoration and Sherlock wondered if that is how he looked when he watched John moving around.

The first night was very funny, Sherlock laughed a lot and John blushed like it was the last time, especially when his mom started talking about his and Harry's childhood and how she always knew he'd fall in love with someone smart, because he himself had always been very intelligent. They asked Sherlock to show his observation skills and he made sure to look at John while talking so he wouldn't say anything offensive, but his boyfriend was all smiles and approval.

“Well, I will have a shower.” John announced getting up.

“I will get my shit together too, are you coming anytime soon, Margaret?” Mr. Watson, or, Ralph, asked.

“No, I am actually running away with my lover, sorry, I'll do the dishes though.” John said his mom was always like that, funny and sarcastic.

“Well, when he figures out how terribly charming you are when you yell and swear, do tell him that I am here from five to eight PM so he can return you.” She hit him with the cloth.

“Fuck you too, I am charming!” They giggled and he hugged her from behind, kissing her cheek and leaving with John who seemed to be used to all of that affection. “Sherlock, you feel free to do whatever, if you want to shower too, I don't mind, you go ahead with John.” Sherlock tried his best not to look petrified, but then again, Mrs. Watson could be very observant herself. “Oh, honey, no! I don't mind sex! You get John to ask his dad for condoms and what not, and if you need anything else, let me know and I will provide!”

“I am actually willing to help with the dishes, Margaret.” Sherlock smiled.

“Okay then, would you dry the dishes for me? Oh, so kind, thanks.” She stopped for a second, the brunette could tell she was considering saying something. “Look, I heard John talking about you all of these months and I feel like I know you, so I feel like I can say stuff to you, but... the thing is, if you and John are as in love as I think you are, and if that is what you guys want... I have been talking to Ralph and we have this little flat in London, very little, but it could fit two people that are willing to be in the same room twenty four seven, if you know what I mean.” She smiled sweetly.

“Oh...” Sherlock had his mouth open in a little 'o'. “we couldn't possibly accept it, what if you need to rent it? London is really hard for real estate-” he began before her waving him off.

“Now, Sherlock, listen, everything I have. Everything, from this house to the lipstick in my purse, it is all for my children, I wouldn't hesitate for a second to say no if I thought this would turn out to be shit, but I saw John with you. He loves you and I don't know how you file what you feel for him, but it classifies as love, am I right? Because if I am not, do not fear telling me the truth, I am quite alright, I know teenagers sometimes love and sometimes don't, I find it great and part of life!” She sighed and smiled.

“Margaret,” Sherlock held her wrist so she would stop and look at him. “I don't just love John, I belong to him. I will do anything for him. Anything at all. I love him more than I have ever loved anyone and you have no idea what it means to me knowing that his family thinks I am enough for him because I feel like I am not. I know he deserves better, but I am selfish and I won't let go, not until he asks me to.”

“Now, I don't want you to think I don't like you, I believe every word you say, but I know for a fact you both are young and I want you both to live and travel and do things, so, when I offer this flat and the opportunity of being together I also want you to keep in mind living, okay?” She looked tired when she smiled, like the responsible mom had finally made a remark, but she still looked beautiful.

“I want him to live too, I will keep it in mind, promise.” The next thing John's mom did was unexpected. The hug was tight and heart felt, like everything she said or did.

“I am so glad for you both.” She let go and offered a big, honest smile. “Now go upstairs and have fun, we're done here.” She winked. Sherlock obeyed. He loved John's homes, almost wished it was his own. It felt like it was.

 

**

 

Sherlock laid in bed in his pyjamas and waited for John to come out of the shower, but when he did the brunette almost wish he hadn't. His hair was wet, he only had his pyjama pants on and a big, tired smile on his face that made his boyfriend feel like he might need to sleep in Harriet's room to avoid grabbing John right there and making love to him until the end of times.

“What?” The blonde asked lying beside Sherlock.

“You are just... Ugh.” He said in frustration.

“Come here.” John said pulling Sherlock closer and entwining their legs. “My mom gave me the equivalent of a truck full of condoms, even though I said we are not there just yet and that the supply will last years.” John whispered and giggled.

“I tell you, that if you keep coming to bed looking like that, the supply will last an hour maximum.” They both laughed. “Now, your mom offered us a flat in London...” Sherlock said after a few quiet moments, when the laughs died away.

“I know, I said I would ask you. Do you want this, Sherlock? We are young, and we have a lot to live, but I don't see why I wouldn't be with you, I just honestly think I am in to giving it a shot.” John said and waited.

“John, I am ready to move in tomorrow.” Sherlock smiled. “Yes, I want this, and yes, we have to live, we should take trips and go to school, we should work and do dull things like dull people.”

“Wouldn't that kill you, though?” The blonde boy kissed Sherlock's forehead and smiled.

“Maybe an older me, but only if I don't have you. Nothing is dull with you. It would make me happy, very, very happy.”

They whispered plans to each other, hopes they had and how happy they were that there was a way to remain together, strong. Sherlock fell asleep first and John played with his curls and whispered the lyrics of “In My Stride” until he fell asleep too.

 

**

 

Throughout the weekend Sherlock learned that John's dad worked for Sherlock father's company, that he was amazing at his job; he also learned that John was amazing at swimming since he was five, and could read and write very well at six, that he looked after Harriet and that she adored him, but was sore from his moving away and this is why she wasn't here this weekend, it was her way of saying he abandoned her, she was a drama queen “just like Sherlock” John remarked and Sherlock even blushed a bit.

Sunday afternoon, when they were dropped off at the station, John's mom cried a little, and so did his dad, they made sure to tell him how proud they were and how they wanted him to succeed, Margaret also told Sherlock to watch for the bullies, she said she knew they were harassing them and that they should not “stand for this little fuckers” Sherlock loved that woman.

The ride back was incredibly calm and full of giggles and plans to tell Greg, have him help them move stuff. They both really liked Greg, even though Sherlock pretended he didn't care.

“We are almost there.” John said smiling. “Now I am just excited for this to be over and we can have our plan moving forward this summer.”

“I, by the other hand, wish we had never left your house. There is still so much to file and I need to know everything.” Sherlock sighed in frustration.

“You need so much help.” The blonde boy mocked. “But hey, you can spend weeks with us in the summer, we'll need to be together to decide somethings, so... my mom adores you anyways.” John kissed Sherlock's cheek.

“Being at your house... I wished that was my home. Thank you for taking me, John.” Sherlock swallowed and looked at his feet, embarrassed. Back then, he was more in touch with his feelings, being around John brought that up a lot, but they didn't know that this boy, this man, would change for good and keep his feelings in a box, locked somewhere far, far away from where they should be.

“It is your house. You are welcome anytime.” John grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

 

**

 

The school was quiet as every Sunday afternoon and the boys went to Sherlock's room, Henry was away and would miss Monday morning.

They entered the room and Sherlock threw his backpack on his chair, lying in bed and motioning for John to do the same.

“Are you trying to seduce me, you little shit?” John said while lying down too.

“I don't need too, look at you go, I haven't even said a word.” He kissed John, but when he attempted to break the kiss, the blonde boy's mouth pressed against his with urgency and his shaky fingers tried to pull Sherlock's shirt off.

This time it actually felt right, they gazed into each others eyes and there was no need for words, they just undressed each other slowly and let themselves be amazed by every single sensation they could cause the other, every sound.

Sherlock started opening John slowly, paying attention to his every reaction and when he finally penetrated John's flesh it was different than every other time he had sex with Sebastian, or anything he had ever done, it didn't feel like sex, it felt like he was just trying to give all of himself to John, make him feel amazing and show him how much he cared, loved every inch of the boy lying there under him.

He stroke John gently and in rhythm with his hips until John came and seconds later his movements grew erratic and he fell on top of John, his face buried in John's neck, breathing him in and feeling his arms close around his body.

“I love you.” John whispered and Sherlock couldn't bring himself to answer, he didn't have to, he kissed whatever piece of John he could find at the moment. “I know you do.” John smiled and proceeded to play with his boyfriend's curls. They laid there for a while and started again, this time John was inside Sherlock and it ended up in the same way, light kissed and love declarations, promises. It was perfect and clumsy, messy, it was the most beautiful thing to ever happen in between those four walls.

 

**

 

“Sherlock, I swear to God, we have a week left, if you don't clean up your locker I will set everything in it on fire and get it over with.” John said from his bathroom, they were alone in his room, Sherlock was spread on his bed.

“I will. I am getting my bags ready, graduation is in two days, I am doing good!” Sherlock joked and John got out of the bathroom and jumped on top of the brunette.

“If you don't have everything ready to leave by Friday, I will make you pay.” The blonde boy kissed him softly. “My mom wants us there Saturday afternoon and we are going to London to see our flat on Sunday morning.” He said sounding so excited he could explode. “I will punish you if she punishes me for being late.”

“Yes, please.” The brunette teased and cupped John's arse with both hands.

That set the blonde boy's mind suddenly and he was kissing Sherlock passionately, getting rid of his boyfriend's belt and sliding his trousers and boxers to his thighs.

“I'll do it before hand then, just to be sure.” He said grabbing a condom in his pocket while Sherlock worked on his belt, his eyes black with desire.

They kissed again and again, John stroked Sherlock slowly and hard.

“Oh, John... God, please...” Sherlock pleaded.

“No. This is punishment, remember, but if you ask nicely I might do something about it.” John stopped stroking and kissed Sherlock's inner thigh, his breath teasing Sherlock in a way that was all but normal.

“Please, John.” The blonde smiled, he ought to do that more times.

“One more time.”

“Please, please John, oh, please.” Sherlock arched his back and John took him by surprise by taking his whole length in his mouth at once, a loud moan escaped the brunette's lips and when he was about to come it stopped, everything stopped. “Oh, for God's sake!” Sherlock put his hands over his face in frustration, like he was about to scream, and then John surprised him yet again by quickly putting a condom on Sherlock. “What are you...” The brunette opened his eyes to see John sliding two fingers in and out of himself and moaning quietly, that almost did it.

John slowly put a third finger in and looked at Sherlock while doing it, gasping and moaning quietly, calling Sherlock's name in little whispers. _Oh fuck._ Sherlock thought trying to understand whatever this was, desire was definitely an understatement. The blonde boy put his knees on each side of Sherlock's hips and lowered himself moaning. His rhythm was ridiculously slow and Sherlock arched his back and rolled his hips and begged, but John would have none of it. He increased the pace according to his own pleasure, until it grew quite fast and he had his boyfriend moaning. 

Sherlock was on the verge of a heart attack and then John came, untouched, all over Sherlock's stomach and that did it for the brunette. His whole body tensed and everything went blank, the feeling took all of him and he was left a sticky mess, panting. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” John laughs, his voice rough while he starts getting up to clean them up.

“If you ever torture me like that again,” Sherlock started and let a smile take over his face. “I might get addicted.” They both laughed. 

The boys ended up curled around each other in bed, reading and enjoying the silence in a way that they could only do with each other.  _If this is how it is going to be, I am in for two life times._ John thought to himself and caressed Sherlock's curls.

 

**

 

It was Thursday, graduation day, everybody was more than excited to leave and start their lives, some were crying and saying goodbyes.

Sherlock was in his room, thinking, trying to control his excitement to go to John's house and see his parents, see their flat. This was the best moment of his life and by far the happiest he had ever been, even Mycroft had texted congratulating him and offering any kind of help they might need. Of course Sherlock never answered, but he did appreciate it in secret.

When the phone rang he though about not answering it, but it might be his mom, and even though they had a delicate relationship, Sherlock didn't like to ignore her.

The screen said “home” and he picked it up without another thought, until the known voice echoed in his ears and he felt his blood go cold.

“Sherlock, son!” His dad said cheerfully.

“What do you want?” The brunette sounded like he was spitting venom.

“Oh well, if those are your terms. I am calling to tell you that your ticket to come home tomorrow morning is booked.” The voice said decisively. 

“But I am going to John's house, on Saturday.” Sherlock said, holding his breath.

“No, you are not, in fact I heard this rumour that you were thinking about sharing a flat in London... this is not happening, Sherlock. I am not raising a faggot.” There were no tears, only this bad feeling, like he could throw up a soccer ball.

“You can't stop me. I love John and we have plans together.”

“Oh, okay then. His dad is Ralph Watson, right? I checked my files, good man, very good at his job, is a shame that if you are not here by tomorrow morning he won't have a job on Monday. Too bad. And then I have here, Greg Lestrade, Forensics teacher, he is good I heard, very good, but won't do any good in jail for harassing my younger son and abusing him, influencing him.” Sherlock couldn't speak or breathe or anything. “Good, see you tomorrow then, your train leaves at eight, Mycroft will pick you up at the school.” The call ended, but Sherlock kept on holding the phone against his ear. So this is how it ended.

 

**

 

“Sherlock, what is it?” John asked opening the bathroom door all clumsy and panting, he clearly ran here. “Your text sounded pretty urgent so you better start talking, you little shit.” John came closer and tried to take Sherlock's hand, but the brunette pulled it away. John's face went blank.

“My dad called me.” He started, his face cold as a stone. “I am not moving ahead with our plan anymore. He said he would do horrible things and I just can't let them happen, John, I...” He took a deep breath. “I don't know what I was thinking when I thought he would allow me to be happy.” He whispered to himself.

“Sherlock, whatever he told you, we can work it out, we can... There must be something else we can do, we could talk to him...” Sherlock looked at John and saw the shorter boy shaking, from head to toe, his blood had left his face and Sherlock realized he would never see or make John Watson blush again, he felt the urge to touch that pale face one last time, make it blush, even a little bit.

“It's done, I will take the first train tomorrow. I am sorry I have disappointed you, please tell your parents I am sorry.” Sherlock walked past John and didn't react to the hands grabbing his sleeve with no actual strength, for they were shaking too much, he ignore all of the whispers, begging him to stay and talk, saying they could work it out, he only shook his head and opened the door, not looking back.

_I am sorry, I love you so much. I am sorry to disappoint you, I love you._ Sherlock thought while he heard the door closing behind him. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on we'll have some really short chapters and some long ones. Just a heads up!

John entered the car in silence, he hadn't been at the graduation ceremony, he just packed and got a ride with Greg to the train station Friday morning. Of course it was awkward and he didn't want to talk about it, so Greg turned on the radio, a few announcements came unnoticed and then a song that at first was just another noise in the background of John's troubled mind, but then it became something.

_When I am twenty one she'll be thirty five..._

 

**

 

Sherlock stared at the radio for three whole seconds. _Cause when I am weary she offers me her shoulder, I make her feel young she makes me feel older..._

 

**

 

“Do you want me to turn it off?” Greg said cautiously.

“No.” John said too fast and held his hand out. “It's... please, let it play.” _I am gonna take you in my stride..._

 

**

 

 _There's some dishes to dry, and the towels are soaked wet, and I'm not fin-_ Sherlock turned the radio off.

 

**

 

Sherlock stared into the older man's eyes. “You are a disgusting, low, human being and I hate you.” he said across the dinner table. That was it, food went flying and there were hands on Sherlock's neck, but this was good, this is what he wanted, the kicks on his ribs felt great because they were something, at least he was feeling something.

Mycroft's voice was far away, pleading at something, but it didn't matter. Sherlock wondered if John would be doing the same, looking for something to feel... he drifted away into his mind palace, it used to be a mansion, but he got rid of almost everything and now it was this small little flat where two people could fit, but only if they could stand being in the same room twenty four seven.

 

**

 

“John, I am asking you, please don't.” Margaret's voice was chocked and she held John's hand tight.

“It will be okay, mom.” He lied. It would never be okay, it felt like it would never be okay ever again.

The idea had been John's and he knew what his mom thought of it, but anything would be better than sitting at home, contemplating the idea of maybe living alone in a little flat in London without the only thing he wanted in it.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock looked out the window, being nineteen was somewhat boring, as everything else, birthdays were dull. He was alone in his flat, made a point of having all of his lights off so nobody would know he was home, and stared out the window. After an hour or two, he got his violin, fuck if people came to the door he just wouldn't answer.

He started playing. It wasn't a violin song, but he found his way through it, humming along, letting the lyrics dance in his head _And every single night she says this has got to stop..._

After the song was done he went through his drawer, surrendering to the syringe, as he always did when his head was very very loud. It had been quite loud for two years, unbearably loud. He missed the quiet.

 

**

 

_You ought to call mommy._

_MH_

Received at 1:00 PM

 

Sherlock ignored it and proceeded for another dose, he was twenty now, his bones were visible through his skin, which was an unhealthy tone of yellow and his eyes had long lost their glow.

He looked at the syringe. It had a deadly amount of the drug in it, he knew what would come out of this, he craved for it.

 

_Mycroft, let John know._

_He has the right to know._

_SH_

Sent at 1:14 PM

 

That night Sherlock entered the hospital, overdosing, Mycroft sat and waited in the waiting room for 12 hours. He didn't come in to visit at first, what could he possibly say? But at last Greg showed up, he hadn't shaved or changed, he just gave Mycroft the equivalent to a thousand kisses and whispered softly that it was time, it was time he helped his brother and it was time he fixed things, it was just time.

 

**

 

Rehab was an awful chapter in Sherlock's life, but it saved him and he knew, Mycroft never spoke about what happened in the hospital, neither did Sherlock, they just couldn't pour their emotions out, ever, they weren't raised for that. How would they explain how Mycroft entered the room and waited in the doorway, staring at Sherlock, and his younger brother just stared back, until he started crying, a heart felt cry that shook his entire body, his little, weak form. He cried for all of the times he had been denied the right to, he cried for himself, he cried for not knowing what to do, for being so lost, so deep inside himself that it felt like drowning, he cried for doing this to Mycroft and Greg, who acted like his actual parents and cried for John. Mycroft saw all that and suddenly, he was sprinting towards the bed, lying beside Sherlock and kissing his curls, crying for all of the same reasons and a few of his own. He held Sherlock there and they never said a word. They never would.

Slowly, Sherlock got in a better shape, close to his twenty first birthday he was allowed out and into a new flat, a new life, Greg found a friend in the police force that started consulting Sherlock in a few weird cases and soon enough depended on him completely, which gave him just the right amount of danger, adrenaline and kept him busy. He was starting his life, a weird, empty, but better life, and this was all he got. So much better than the past few years.

 

**

 

John heard a loud, loud _bang_ , probably the loudest thing he ever heard, and then Steve was screaming. Steve had tried to break through John's defences... he never managed to, but John knew he cared and he felt sorry for the bloke when he drifted away slowly.

 

**

 

“John, baby, it's mom, John?” Margaret's voice filled the room. “Oh, baby, I love you so much.” She cried holding John's hand tight and caressing his face.

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock approached the bed, his pulse loud in his ears...

Sherlock ran through the hallway, trying not to be loud, he could hear Mycroft trying to whisper and not to run, behind him.

Yes, he had stolen a few toes, yes he had gone into that military base pretending to be Mycroft. Yes, but he didn't deserve to be chased by his older brother, he just ran and suddenly, not thinking about it opened a door and closed it quietly. He kept staring at the door and heard Mycroft walking past, cursing quietly and calling his name in loud whispers. Sherlock gave a few steps backwards and noticed the sounds filling the room, a machine, a heart beep. Shit, there was someone here.

The detective turned slowly to face whomever might be staring at his back, but no one was.

Lying there, the patient had his eyes closed, breathing slowly, his sand blonde hair was messy against the pillow, his skin was tanned, his muscles were visible against his skin still, even though Sherlock could tell he had been lying for a while, a coma then. He was still the same and at the same time...

Sherlock approached the bed, his pulse loud in his ears, he put his hand out to touch the man, but couldn't bring himself, so he sat there for a second, his whole body shaking.

“J-J-John?” His voice sounded rough and childish. A nurse walked in and he assumed a desperate expression. “I want all of the files you have on this patient. Now.”

“Sorry sir, this isn't visitation time, I must ask you to leave.” The nurse said in a boring monotone, like she did that all of the time.

“If you don't do as I say, I will let your superior know of the morphine deal you do two doors down, but I am really excited to see what he'll think of your habit of taking the new doctor into the cleaning closet at least three times a week.” The woman stood paralysed.

“How could you-” Sherlock rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Do it now!” He yelled and she ran out of the room. Meanwhile he just sat there, staring at John, lying there, defenceless. “What have you done?”

 

**

 

In ten minutes all of John's medical record was spread on the floor and Sherlock was sitting in the middle of them, reading and cataloguing every single piece of information, the army, the accident, his coma, everything. And then he stopped and looked up to the man on the bed, as if he had called Sherlock's name. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Now he was here, Sherlock had found him.

The detective sat back on the chair and pulled it closer to John's bed. There were studies saying that coma patients were capable of hearing what happened around them, various studies, but even if Sherlock could talk, what would he say?

“Hi, John...” He tried. “I am sorry. I burst in and never really... This is ridiculous. I don't even know if you can hear me... perhaps this is better, maybe this is the only way I can actually talk to you.” He gave a weak laugh. “Hi. I missed you. I miss you.” he breathed in.

 

**

 

Sherlock grew used to sitting around John, and talking to him became easier and easier.

“I moved out,” he'd say, “I got into drugs, cocaine, overdosed and ended up in rehab. Mycroft put me there, and even though I will never say this to him, I owe him that... well, he knows. After that I moved into a new flat. I am in London...” He'd stop and think about their plans suck on his lower lip and breathe a couple times, swallow. “Now I work as a detective,” He'd tell John, “a consulting detective, mind you. The only one in the world. I invented the job myself, but I guess you could gather that much.” He smiled. “I also went back to the violin, right after school, I have some experiments on the kitchen sink and they are coming out great, you know I love my science.”

This is how the days and nights would go, nobody ever came in to tell him it wasn't visitation time, nobody knew he was there. He would go to his flat and shower, sometimes he's shower in John's shower, just so he didn't have to be away, he would talk and talk and then fall silent for hours. Sometimes he would be taken aback by a sudden rage, seeing John like that, he wanted to kill whomever had done that, he wanted to torture them and murder them in the worst way he could think of, he wanted to slap John and force him to talk. He wanted to curl himself around John and kiss his face until he woke up.

“I am working on this case now, this guy is... he is not a man, he is a spider, he control a network of criminals all over the world and I will take him down. You'd be pissed at me, I get very quiet and closed thinking about it, but I know that many of the cases I have been in were his doing...” He would tell John about his adventures in the city of London, the cases he solved and sometimes the ones he didn't.

“And this is how I solved that one, I reckon you'd bring me down by saying that it is quite simple when I explain. I always got mad, remember?” He chuckled and then stopped, looking at John's inexpressive face, tanned by a sun Sherlock never saw, carrying scars from someone Sherlock never fought. “Why did you go? Why wasn't I with you?” Sherlock asked more to himself, but looking at John, slowly he started moving towards the bed, remembering how he felt when Mycroft laid beside him in bed that day. “I want to make it better. What did you do? Who did you meet? I want to know.” he whispered lying beside John. “I am sorry.” he kissed his temple. “I will make it better.” His arm around John's waist. “ _Oh my, my, there's some dishes to dry, and the towels are soaked wet, and I am not finished with you yet...”_ he whispered into John's hair. He'd never be finished with that man and it would either be the reason he perished or the reason he lived. Either way, Sherlock accepted it, arms open wide.

 

**

 

The detective was siting on his chair, he could call it home by now, sometimes he did, in his head. Mycroft had never shown up, he only sent a text, once,  _I am glad you found him_ , it said. Nobody ever bothered them and this made Sherlock more and more used to being here.

Someone opened the door and the brunette was ready to yell at the nurses, but instead he sat there, mouth hanging open, his heart racing. Margaret looked much older, what happened to John had gotten her in ways Sherlock could never put into words. Her expression reflected his.

The little woman ran and Sherlock stood, waiting for a slap, a punch, a shot that he deserved, but instead her little arms grabbed him around the waist so tight. He took a few seconds, but his arms did the same. She was still warm and still had that thing about her, the thing that made everyone around her comfortable.

“Sherlock, oh, this is wonderful!” She cried looking at him, moving away. “How did you find him?” she whispered in between sniffs.

“I... I don't know.” She nodded. “Do you want me to leave?” It hurt physically to stay away from John, especially now, offering it was like being set on fire, but for Margaret, he would.

“No, never again.” She smiled weakly and sat on John's bed, looking at Sherlock who took his seat on the chair.

“I am sorry.” He said staring at his shoes.

“I know, and I know it wasn't your fault.” She smiled sweetly. “I bet you want to know what he had been up to.” She offered.

“Yes.” Sherlock shook his head and pressed his lips together, trying to keep from crying. He was different now, he didn't cry, his emotions were somewhere he didn't want to know, but John, Margaret... They brought it all back to him.

“He wanted to be a doctor, he signed up to the army, went to Afghanistan. I was worried sick and then the phone rang, John was at Bart's in a coma, no one knows if he will wake up or not.” She smiled at her son, the saddest smile there has ever been. “I come every once a week, but these past few weeks Ralph has been sick, he is old now” she laughed, “my poor Ralph, he likes to come, but not every week, it gets to him in a way I can't explain, but I understand. Harriet came once. Since John left she started drinking, now she is doing some treatment. We'll be alright, when he wakes up, it will be okay.” Sherlock got up really fast and sat beside her on the bed, wrapping his long arms around her and hiding his face on her shoulder. She put her hands on his arms ans sobbed.

 

**

 

On the days Margaret didn't come, Sherlock sat there and looked at John, researched about coma patients and about his crimes. He was solving some from the Hospital, but it was extremely rare that he left Bart's to see anything. 

On this day, Margaret was there and Sherlock went off on a case, it was Moriarty again, two kids were kidnapped. Sherlock found them, the little girl screamed when she saw the brunette and cried, raising suspicion on the police force. Sherlock went back to the hospital.

Entering the room he heard Margaret sobbing loudly and his heart dropped. His fingers pushed the door automatically, but he wasn't sure he wanted to see what was behind it.

John was sitting on the bed while a nurse checked his vital signs, his eyes were open wide and he looked a bit confused. Sherlock stood there, breathing heavily and feeling his knees give in.

The blonde man looked at his and his mouth fell open.

“Sherlock.” He got up with a lot of effort and ignored the nurse that tried to keep him in bed. His arms surrounded the detective's body and held him tight.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Sherlock kept whispering into John's hair.

 

**

 

Margaret had to go home, but she would be back with Ralph and Harry tomorrow, Sherlock never left, the nurse didn't even argue with him, probably Mycroft's doing.

“So...” Sherlock held his breath when they were finally alone. “how are you feeling?”

“I am... I remember, the doctors were impressed, although I don't remember the accident at all, I remember being in my dorm with Steven, we were arguing...” He stopped himself and looked at Sherlock.

“I see. It will probably come back.” The detective pretended to ignore Steve's existence.

“I missed you, Sherlock.” John said quickly. “I know we are almost twenty two years old now and it has been a while...” he swallowed.

Sherlock waited for John to look up and leaned in. Their kiss brought back memories that they never really let go. Watching the sun rise, kissing in the staff bathroom, making love in between classes, hidden in the same bathroom, dancing together, fighting over stupid things, leaving classes with the excuse of going to the bathroom and meeting to make out for a few minutes. They had always been aware that this was the right thing to do. Being together, and although they had changed and life had hurt them both, they could fix it now. Or so John thought. John smiled against Sherlock's lips.

“Can I stay here tonight?” The detective asked, John nodded and made room on the bed. They slept with their legs entwined. 

 

 

 

 

**

 

The following morning, John woke up to Sherlock putting his coat on.

“Where are you going?” Sherlock turned to him, his expression hurt and pained.

“I am sorry.”He said and swallowed, pausing to consider what he was going to say next. “It is all a magic trick, John, okay? I love you.” He walked towards the door. 

“Sherlock?” John sounded panicked.

“You will read things on the paper, tell everyone it is all true, tell everyone that will listen to you.”

“What? No.” Sherlock closed the door and John got up, dressing himself quickly, but once he hit the hallway Sherlock was nowhere to be seen, but the doctor wouldn't give up, not again. He found his way out of the hospital, into the street, looking for Sherlock. The phone he didn't know that was in his pocket rang.

“Sherlock? Where are you?” John was breathing hard, the world was spinning slightly.

“Look up.” The doctor's stomach dropped.

“Get down, stop this, stop it right now.”

“Keep your eyes on me, ple- please, will you do this for me?” 

“What are you... Sherlock please, I beg you, no. Whatever they said, whatever happened, I am not doing this again.” John pleaded.

“This is my note. Isn't that what people do, leave a note?” Sherlock's voice echoed on the phone.

“Leave a note when?” John tried to drag the conversation, he needed to drag the conversation.

“Goodbye, John.” Sherlock threw his phone aside and John could see it.

“No, no... Sherlock!” He screamed and then Sherlock was in the air, falling.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

“So this is what is happening, I am... I am okay, really. Of course I miss you and honestly, I can't really explain how, but I feel like you miss me too. My therapist say I have to move on, find someone else, but... You were the best man, I have ever met, and I know it has been two years, but I can't let this go.” John said to the gravestone.

Two years had gone by and he visited Sherlock's grave every week, he sat there and spoke to Sherlock like Sherlock did when John was in a coma, but this time the other one wasn't going to miraculously wake up, John kept reminding himself.

He got up, leaving flowers to Sherlock, and walked back to the street. The cab was a comfort, seeing the streets and people going by, he was pleased to finally be on his own street. After Sherlock died, he moved into his old flat. It didn't matter that it made everything harder, he didn't care.

He took the steps slowly, and opened the door automatically, hanging his coat and walking into the kitchen for a glass of water.

A sound took the entire flat, it was a violin.

John walked towards Sherlock's room slowly, his pulse loud in his ears. The song being played was Happiness, by The Fray, which John really enjoyed and he recognized the tune.

He took one step at a time and stopped in front of the door, listening. He didn't move, he just stood there listening, humming along, shaking. _Happiness damn near destroys you..._

He felt his heart nearly stopping _You'll wake up and she'll be home..._

John pushed the door open slowly, _She'll be hoooooooooome..._

The song kept going and John could hear the whole band in his head, working their way around the beautiful melody of the violin

Standing there was Sherlock, holding his violin, locked in a state of mind that made him look as young as the first time John saw him.

Their eyes met.


	14. Epilogue

 6 years later.

 

“If you don't wake up, I will punch you.” John said rolling on top of Sherlock.

“From my experience, that means you love me.” The detective murmured.

“Yes it does, but it also means 'you little shit'.” John laughed kissing his husband's temple.

They had been married for five years now. After John found Sherlock standing there, he punched him several times and then grabbed his face in between his hands and kissed him, passionately. He treated Sherlock's wounds and scars, and they started working on their own together.

“We have to go, you have a case.” The doctor chuckled. “And I am working in the afternoon.”

“Ugh, dull.” Sherlock rolled his eyes against his pillow. “When did we become old and dull?”

“Not what you called me last night.” They chuckled and Sherlock rolled on top of John, kissing his face and neck.

“You idiot.” Sherlock murmured against John skin and proceeded to distracting him from the matter in hands that was: they were going to be late.

 

**

 

Years went by, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson lived together in Baker Street. They were there for each other in every moment, good or bad.

When John's dad passed away, Sherlock made sure to hold John together, and to keep Harriet sober, when Margaret passed away John laid beside a sobbing Sherlock for days, holding him tight and whispering sweet things. Harriet kept sober on her own.

Sherlock's parents died in a car accident. He took flowers with John every once in a while, for his mother, so did Mycroft and Greg.

The Holmes brothers softened a bit with time, Mycroft would drop by every couple weeks, but not without Greg's little push at first.

Sherlock grew older, and when they both completed sixty, John decided it was time to stop. They moved to Sussex together, to a cottage they bought when they were both forty two and Sherlock decided to go on with his obsession with bees. John and bees. He was happy.

The detective started to forget things, and matters grew worst every year. When Mycroft passed, Greg would visit the regularly, but he didn't last long without the older Holmes, and John would go with his husband and leave flowers for Mye and Greg too.

Sometimes Sherlock would wake up and ask where they were, if they had gotten some criminal from when he was thirty four. John would calm him down with kisses and put him back to sleep. One day, the detective didn't wake up, he died with John's arms around him and that served it's purpose to John.

The old doctor died six months later, his heart stopped while making tea. He was buried beside Sherlock and then there were many flowers, from many admirers, from John and Sherlock's nephew, Hamish, who learnt to deduce with Sherlock and was following the same path. The world kept going without the two men, but it certainly was a better place after their love story.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that is it, yest I posted it all in a day! Thanks for following this story up until here, I hope you liked it! xx


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